Burn
by Mccorv3
Summary: The third story in the series, following HOME and OFFICIAL. Beth and Daryl have settled into life on the farm with the new group. Life in the new dangerous world is never dull and keeps both of them on their toes. Together Beth and Daryl struggle against walkers, foes and sometimes even family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Happy Monday everyone! I have to apologize for how long it took me to actually post this story. I know I just finished another lingering story and said I was going to take a small break – mostly to get started on this project again. Once I started playing around with the story of BURN, I had realized I have had this first chapter done for 2 years. You readers have been waiting 2 whole years for this story to finish up – I'm so sorry for that! I hope everyone has enjoyed the side distractions I've posted since then with a few other stories I've put out there.**

 **BURN picks up not long after OFFICAL ended. I think readers may have to read both HOME and OFFICIAL to understand this story fully – new characters and striking different story line for where TWD is now. This story with continue to be heavily BETHYL focused but a few other show characters may pop in… maybe in the first few chapters – I know I promised that before and I plan to keep that true for everyone.**

 **Please enjoy the first chapter of BURN.**

BURN

" _Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." - Joseph Campbell_

CHAPTER 1

Daryl slid his calloused hand along the line of her hip, slipping under the band of her underwear to the warm flesh beneath. Beth was spooned with him, her smaller frame fitting snuggly against him. It was still black out, but Daryl had just allowed himself to drift awake. It was morning despite the darkness; dawn break was coming later and later each day. Daryl knew there was still a little time before the day came to collect them.

He loved this time alone with his wife. _His wife_. It still caused a swell of pride to fill his chest each time he thought those words. Beth Greene was his wife. Four weeks had passed since she had slipped that ring onto her finger in the bathroom and bound them together with her affirmation. For the first time in his shitty life, Daryl felt his whole world was complete. That ring on her finger, the sweet smile she gave him every morning, and the touch of her soft skin against him was more than Daryl had ever dared dream of. The last four weeks of heaven had flown by too quickly.

During this time of bliss there had been one singular, nagging black mark that was always hanging in the back of his head. It had been four weeks since their wild, abandoned lovemaking in the shower. Four weeks since their lapse in judgment during the heat of the moment. Beth had explained later, blushing while she did, that the condoms, if not already, were near useless. They had started using other methods but knew that nothing was guaranteed. Nothing was ever safe, but damn, if Daryl didn't enjoy being bound to her, being fused with his warm, tight wife. Now with no barrier between them, he always pulled out, relishing until the last moment. Still, there was always that one time four weeks ago that would linger in his mind.

Beth had told him not to worry even though he'd never said anything to her. She knew, his wife could read him like a book. All Daryl knew was it had been four weeks and Beth hadn't bled since then. Not like he regularly paid a lot of attention before. It wasn't something Daryl cared to know about, the mysteries of woman. He knew on the road and at the cabin, Beth would tell him she needed _supplies_ and they would go get them. Daryl wasn't sure why Beth didn't need them often as she had rarely asked for them. He figured the hard life and bad diet probably affected her body, making her cycles irregular. But now here, he knew life had become fairly standard and regular even if he wasn't sure if Beth was.

So Daryl worried silently but enough for her to notice. His concern wasn't so much as to dampen the bliss that was his life for the moment, but just enough nagging unease about the future. Daryl supposed perhaps that's what you did once you found happiness. The curse was how long could one make that joy last? Daryl had never had to worry about it with his family, with Merle, at the Greene farm, or prison because he always knew whatever they had wasn't going to last. He never said the words to anyone, he may haven't even thought the exact idea, but deep in his bones Daryl always knew nothing good in his life ever lasted. Now that he had this wonderful woman in his arms and in his life, he knew he had to make sure it lasted. Damn if he was going to be responsible for her not to survive… ever.

If Daryl was honest with himself, a baby scared the goddamn shit out of him. Even before the world went to hell, he had never been interested in being a father or interested in general with kids. He liked them for the most part, but as long as they weren't his responsibility and didn't get in his way. Daryl had been as surprised as everyone else in their group with the paternal, almost fatherly devotion he felt with Lil' Ass-Kicker. He had chalked it up to the facts that her mama had been dead and her daddy had checked into crazy town for a bit. Daryl had stepped up, he'd ensured she survived. Somewhere along the way, he loved her even if he didn't realize it until it was too late. Judith was gone from their lives now; she was missing or dead. Either way gone was gone and Daryl just didn't know her exact fate. He could never do that with his own flesh and blood. He couldn't do that to Beth.

Beth stirred next to Daryl, her body shifting just enough to add pressure against his body. Her warm ass rubbed against his cock despite the slight cloth barrier between them. Daryl breathed in her scent, his nose in her blonde hair. He could tell she was waking up slowly.

The couple had spent the last few nights in bed together, rare full nights without guard duty rotations or other dilemmas. Despite having the time together, Daryl had not found it _fruitful_ as his partner had injured herself. Beth had slipped in the yard, chasing an errant chicken. It would have been hilarious if she had not shouted in pain and twisted her ankle, bad enough for him to carry her inside. The sprain had been severe enough for Jess to have wrapped it, iced it, and placed Beth on rest for a few days.

The first day, Beth had rested her ankle high up on pillows, learning to crochet more from Paula. The outcome had been the same as last winter, a strangely angled scarf followed up by the re-balling of yarn. The following day, Beth had hobbled around the kitchen to help where she could until Daryl had found out and sat her back down. Yesterday, Beth had walked with a limp but not as pronounced as before. In another day or two, Daryl knew she'd be fine. He thanked his lucky stars for the fences and the Wilken farm. It was a place for her to rest, heal, and be safe. Not everyone in the world had that these days.

Daryl pulled her hip back as Beth stirred again, pressing her harder against him. The pressure was enough to show her he was awake and ready. After a few days of taking it easy on her, he was eager to please them both. With her eyes still closed he could see curve of her cheek pull up, a lazy smile growing on her mouth.

Beth snuggled against him, rolling her head in the pillow to allow a profiled look up at him. "Mornin'."

His hand left her hip and trolled down to her thigh. "Mornin'," he rumbled with his face moving from her hair to her exposed neck. Daryl trailed his lips down to her throat. "How's the ankle?"

She flexed her leg, testing the bandage bound ankle. Beth took her time, the slight inflections rubbed against his hardened cock in a slow, teasing manner. "Better. I'll limp a little but it don't hardly hurt today."

His finger trailed back up her thigh, traced her hip's edge, and then back down to her center. "Good," he growled, allowing his finger tips to brush over her mound over her panties.

He heard her breath quicken as she uttered in a low voice, "I could have before, ya know…"

Daryl allowed a finger to slip into the hidden heat between her thighs, skimming the sleek readiness he found there. "Not the way I've wanted."

Beth twisted more towards him, opening her legs more to his wanting touch. "Oh, how's that?" Her voice was husky and teasing, music to his ears.

He lifted over her, rolling her completely on to her back beneath him. Daryl gave her a secretive smirk as he let his body drift down hers, kissing the hollow of her neck and tops of her pert breasts. A dreamy, humming sigh left Beth as she pulled her tank top over her head. For some time he'd had an idea he couldn't get out of his head and this morning seemed like the perfect opportunity. Daryl furthered his kisses to her flat stomach, his tongue circling her navel as he pulled her underwear off and tossing them to the floor forgotten.

"This way," Daryl breathed as he settled between her thighs, using his strong hands to part them easily. This was unexplored territory for the couple; Daryl had never wanted to before with his brief encounters in the past. His focus had always been on his own pleasure. Now, he loved his wife's whimpering cries of passion and couldn't help wanting to elicit more from her. He slowly eased his body down the bed, pressing kisses to the tops of her thighs.

"Daryl," Beth gasped once she realized what was coming as Daryl shifted himself down on her farther. "Oh, I'm… we haven't…" she stumbled as she rose up on her elbows.

"Shh," he hushed her gently and loved the way his breath against readied center caused her body to instinctively shudder. "You'll enjoy this, I promise. And I've been wantin' t' do this for the longest damn time."

Daryl eased her thighs over his shoulders to help keep the pressure off her struggling ankle and to give himself more control over what he desired to do to his recent bride. They were both still very much enjoying this honeymoon period, and Daryl intended to make this last. He slipped his hands over her hips and under her buttocks, lifting Beth ever so slightly off the bed as he nuzzled against the soft curls that protected her most intimate center.

Taking his time, Daryl teased her by brushing his lips against her glistening slit until Beth eased herself back with a deep breath escaping her. "That's it… just relax," Daryl murmured as her hips reflexively started to undulate from his erotic touch. He was in no hurry to rush this.

Trusting in him completely, Beth allowed her legs to relax further and granted him better access to her. Understanding she was granting allowance, Daryl slowly ran his tongue along her slit, testing her wetness and getting his first taste of her sweetness. It still marveled him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

A sharp gasp escaped Beth at his first tentative touch with her body arching slightly from it. Getting the response he had hoped for, Daryl spread her slightly more with his thumbs and fully lowered his mouth to the wet heat he found there. Beth wriggled under his tantalizing touch, but he kept her pinned in his hold with his strong hands. He felt his cock twitch, growing even harder at her response but knew he wasn't going to rush this… for either of them.

He allowed his tongue to explore, delving into her sweet folds and finding what they both enjoyed the most. Daryl was meticulous in hunting, planning, and fighting so pleasing Beth for him would be no different as he did his best to ignore his throbbing dick and pounding heart to focus all of his intent on her. He continued his attention on her in relish, diving in and giving his woman what she moaned for in a low, pleading voice.

Beth started to rock against his face, the sensations Daryl was inducing were almost more than she could bear. Her hands fisted in the sheets and her teeth bit down on her lower lip, trying hard not to let her sensuous cries get too loud. He dragged his tongue from bottom up to her swollen nub as he savored her taste to memory.

Daryl continued to tease her, slowly suckling her clit and alternating between deep tongue dancing over her aching center. Beth grabbed at his hair, urging him up higher. The knowledge she was in much more of a rush than he was had him smirking as he complied. He found her clit and started a gentle suckle, one that started to drive Beth over the edge.

She arched up against his hold, pressing herself against him until he found a steady rhythm that had her moaning his name. Daryl allowed a hand to slip from her hip and dived into her waiting center. Two fingers penetrated her with ease as he pumped her furiously while she rolled her hips with his finger fucking. Her walls clenched over his fingers and her legs quivered against him, but Daryl didn't stop. He was going to ride her through, enjoying her orgasm as much as if he was pounding her with his cock instead of his fingers. Daryl only slowed once her muscles gave out and she relaxed against him, her heavy breathing filling the space between them.

Daryl pulled himself up and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Beth flushed slightly under his masculine stare, sensing his pride at the new response he had been able to drink from her. He loved the sight of her in the afterglow of pleasure with her flushed cheeks, tight nipples, and wet lips. Beth gazed at him with half-lidded eyes, reaching a hand out to him, beckoning him forth.

He obliged her, allowing him to brace himself over her ready body. Daryl guided himself to her waiting center, easing himself slowly into her wet but tight sheath. Once her silken heat flowed over him, he knew his best intentions of making this last longer was no longer an option. His saving grace was he knew Beth was already pleased. Daryl withdrew from her warmth only to sink back in ever deeper, the snug vice of her body welcoming his incursion readily. He brushed some errant hairs from her cheek before his hands came to frame her face. He drove in repeatedly, sliding into her sleekness, so warm and waiting.

Her lips shaped his name but it escaped without a sound as he bent down and touched her mouth with his own. With their tongues mingling, Daryl deepened his thrust at an increasingly maddening pace. The space between their bodies became sleek with sweat as Daryl continued his pounding pace into Beth, her body meeting each thrust eagerly. Abruptly, Beth arched hard up against him, her hands digging into his arms as her body once against clenched hard around him. Feeling her walls convulsing was almost more than Daryl could stand as he held himself rigid, enjoying the waves of her second orgasm rolling off his length.

" _Christ_ ," he hissed out from a clenched jaw. Almost too late, he jerked back and grabbed hold of his throbbing cock. Hot, white cum jutted out of him, hitting Beth's stomach in a force that he couldn't control.

Utterly drained, Daryl rolled to the side and flopped onto his back, still breathing heavily and perhaps even a little dizzy. He wondered again if he wasn't too old for this shit but quickly dismissed it, knowing he really didn't give a fuck as long as he got to revel in Beth's body. It wouldn't be a bad way to go someday if he was too old. He grabbed at a loose article of clothing, using it to clean himself and Beth.

Once cleaned, Beth followed him to lie back down as she draped an arm over his stomach and rested her head on his shoulder. She hummed a soft appreciation in a tune he didn't recognize but still closed his eyes to enjoy. Beth did that here… finally again, like she often did at the prison, at the farm and even when they had been on the road that first winter. She had seemingly lost that ability, the humming and the free singing sometime after her father's death.

Here and now, Beth was finally able to feel free do so again. Daryl thought maybe Beth felt safe again, that this place relaxed her. It made him rest easier. They had all even been graced with her singing voice a few times. Daryl wanted to ask her to sing more but wasn't exactly sure how? He wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Beth would sometimes sing silly songs with Oscar and had sung on occasion when Paula had asked but never freely anymore. She seemed to have to be asked when she hadn't before. Daryl wondered why, what could be so different? When Beth sang, her heart seemed to soar, her soul bared for all those listening. A beautiful expression he hadn't fully appreciated until there was silence. The journey had been so long and so hard from the prison to now, Daryl wondered if she may have lost some of her joy along the way.

They rested intertwined for a time, relaxing and letting their heartbeats slow to normal. But not for too long, Daryl could never stand to lay about even if there was a fine woman in bed with him. He knew the day needed to start. Sunrise was usually his call and the later autumn sun had already broken the horizon.

"Gotta go," Daryl stated softly, easing his body from under hers.

"Finally gonna try and go out huntin' today?" Beth asked as she rolled to her back and snuggled under the covers. She was generally an early riser too, perhaps because of him, but often held back for a moment or two to relish in the last bit of warmth in the bed.

He rose fully, snatching a set of clothes quickly. Daryl pulled them on as he stood. He didn't sit on the edge of the bed, he never did. It would be easier, but Daryl still didn't like her looking at his nasty collection of scars. It wasn't because he was ashamed anymore or she would have whimpered at the sight of them. He was fine with her touching him there now, the way she stroked his back during lovemaking or rubbed out the knots after a long day. Daryl just didn't want her to have to stare at them every morning, to see the ugliness, and be reminded of his weakness and pain. She didn't need to remember that about him every day, he would be the one to bare them. Daryl always dressed with his front facing her.

Daryl slid his shirt over his head. "Maybe. I shoulda went out yesterday but…" His voice trailed off.

"But me," Beth finished when he had stopped. "You could have gone. I'm fine." She gave him a raised brow look, one that dared him to dispute.

He ignored the challenge, knowing better, and gave a noncommittal grunt in response as he buttoned his jeans. Daryl knew there had been no way he would have left her side when she had been unable to run, let alone barely able to walk. The fences here were great but not perfect.

"Daryl, I'm fine. I'll be fine when you come back later today. Go," Beth ordered, rising up on elbow to give him stern look.

Daryl glanced up at her through his dark bangs. He knew better than to argue when he saw that look on her face. He knew the group was low on meat, they had plenty of vegetables to last the winter but a man could only live on potatoes for so many days.

"I guess I could go today," he answered finally.

Beth smiled at him. "Good. Because after that workout, I'll need more energy for another round tonight. Protein would go a long way in helping that out… "

"For tonight, then," Daryl smirked at her before leaning down to steal a quick kiss from her laughing lips.

When he pulled back, the lightness was gone from her bright blue eyes, earnestness replacing it. "You stay safe."

"Always," he promised. It was always his intent to keep his promise to Beth each time they were apart and out in the world… it was just sometimes, the world had its own plans.

 **A/N: Hopefully this first chapter was what everyone had been waiting for. I wanted to start it out pretty happy since we are going to go to some dark places in this story line. Please let me know what you think. I plan on posting only once a week as I am a slow writer, but with lots of encouragement I am sure I could post a little faster…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for kind words – I appreciate all my reviews and they are such great fuel for writing. I told everyone who asked that they wouldn't have to wait long to find out what happened to some of the other TWD characters and I wasn't lying – here is your first glimpse into one character's return.**

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CHAPTER 2

Daryl shifted his gear from the truck to the jeep with a grumble. He had wanted the truck today, better to haul back his kill if he was lucky. He was hoping for plump deer now that winter was just about upon them. The heat of the lingering summer had disappeared quickly a few weeks ago, and the weather seemed to almost completely bypass the autumn season almost completely.

It was cool enough that morning to see your breath and to have the ground covered in a crispy frost that shaded the land with a clean, white sheen. It crunched under his feet when Daryl walked despite the sun having breached into then the bright blue morning sky. There were no clouds out today, just blue as far as the eyes could see. A blue that was beautiful but still didn't compare to the crystal blue of his wife's eyes.

Daryl felt his lip quirk up into a half-smile unconsciously at the word again. _Wife_. He knew he would never tire of saying it, hearing it, or thinking it until the day he died.

The lift in his mood was only fleeting as he grabbed the extra gas tank from the truck bed. The damn truck hadn't started again this morning. He and Tigo had gotten it working last week, but the damn thing was fickle. The pickup bed would have been nice, less to clean out, versus the jeep if he got the kill he was after. Daryl had briefly considered changing his destination to hunting out in the woods nearby, but he and Beth had hit that area pretty heavily a few weeks ago. Honestly, there had been little game sign out there last week. Daryl thought he'd try his luck just a bit further out. At breakfast, Paula had showed him an area on the map not too far away that should be good.

On top of it all, Daryl was tired of being cooped up and eager to explore new territory. Not that he had really been restricted to the area around them but with Beth being injured the past few days, Daryl hadn't wanted to move outside the fences. Now he was itching to go, a feeling inside him that urged him to get out and stretch his legs.

"Where ya going, Daryl?" questioned the young Denny as he approached. Denny looked to be just returning from giving the leftover breakfast scraps to the small flock of hens they had. Winter had decreased their egg production, but the group still had to feed the lazy birds. No matter what, Daryl wasn't going to complain about fresh eggs even if it wasn't as often has it had been that summer. Now that some of the hens had aged up, next spring should be more bountiful with more eggs and chickens to eat. It would make the group less dependent on him and Beth outside the fences, and that was just fine with Daryl. A more secure food source was better for all.

"Huntin'."

Although Daryl's answer was short, his tone was not. Denny didn't bug Daryl, not one bit. He'd taken the guy out a few times, more recently now that the field harvesting was done. The guy was a fucking natural despite his obvious limitations. Denny was quiet and listened carefully to everything and anything Daryl said to him with a scary intensity. Perhaps it was because Daryl saved Denny, but Denny seemed to worship the ground Daryl walked on and would often tag along when time allowed.

Daryl had taken him on a few expeditions into the woods, teaching him to track and hunt as he had months before with Beth. Denny was slower than most but that didn't make him useless to Daryl. He was stout but strong and worked for hours on end, grinding away until he dropped if you let him. Denny was also quiet, respectful, and eager to learn which was more than any of the other knuckleheads at the farm.

Soon Daryl knew he'd have to start teaching Denny with a bow to complete his training as he was too frightened to use a gun. The young man was fairly apt with his bat or a knife but for true hunting and survival in this world, a person needed to learn a longer range weapon. Sure, Denny loved to play cars with Oscar and wouldn't eat green food, but he was still useful where it counted.

"Hunting?" The excitement was evident in the young man's higher than normal pitched voice. "Can Denny go with you? Can I go with you? There are more chores to do but I can do'em later. Can I, Daryl?"

Daryl paused, putting the crossbow in the back seat as he considered it. Honestly, he had wanted some alone time…

"Please," Denny implored, his big, round blue eyes going wide.

"What's the rules?"

Denny brought a hand up, raising his fingers as he spoke. "Be safe first. Be quiet second. Do whatever Daryl says third. Denny always listens. I always listen."

The kid did, Daryl had to give Denny that.

Daryl grunted as he nodded. "Sure, grab a hat. It's cold."

Denny ran off inside in an excited rush. Daryl allowed himself a little smile as he watched the exuberant dash of Denny that lead his field of vision to Beth on the other side of the rec hall window. She was taking the baby from Kayla. Little Isaac was growing bigger and bigger each day. He wasn't a bad looking little bugger, but Daryl just didn't feel the same as he had when Lil' Ass-kicker had arrived. Isaac was the center for everyone at the Wilken farm and that was ok, he had lived and that was great.

Beth adored the little baby and that scared the hell out of Daryl. He wasn't really sure why it had seemed so natural when he had been with Judith versus the kick in the gut feeling he had when he saw little Isaac, having never ventured forth to hold him yet. Something deep inside him was stirred, but Daryl couldn't quiet explain his aversion to the baby. He knew Beth sensed something was not quite right, but since he couldn't explain it to himself he wasn't sure what to tell her.

As Beth held the baby in the crook of her arm, looking so natural to him, a warm smile graced her lips. Daryl couldn't help but to stare at the happiness he couldn't dare think about giving her. He was a shellfish bastard, he knew that. There was no way he was going to give her up for that. There was no way he wanted to risk her for a dream like that.

Daryl watched as Beth turned with the child still in her arms, calling to someone. Denny rushed over to Beth, pulling a hat over his golden locks and pointing at Daryl. Beth followed Denny's direction to Daryl, giving him a small smile. Daryl nodded, knowing he had been caught staring. The tips of his ears burn slightly. Beth turned her attention back to Denny, talking to him. The younger man nodding vigorously, agreeing with whatever the woman was saying.

When he was released from Beth's consideration, Denny sprinted out, a grey stocking cap on his head and his pack with his bat slung over his shoulder. Daryl finally dragged his eyes from his wife and ushered the smiling Denny into the Jeep. It was obvious to himself more than ever that Daryl needed some time in the woods again.

The pair drove the miles to their destination with little talking, another reason Daryl actually was starting to prefer Denny as a partner over almost anyone else at the farm on hunting trips, Beth being the one exception. It was a bit farther than Daryl preferred to walk, hence the jeep. If they were lucky enough to get the deer Daryl was hoping for, it would have been a hard trip back to the farm without the vehicle. A harder trip than it would have been a decade ago if Daryl was being honest; somehow his mid-thirties and hard life had really snuck up on him.

They started out slowly; Daryl took the time to explain the difference between a few of the sparse tracks the found. Denny was good with larger animals like deer or walkers, but he was still learning to tell the difference between the smaller animals like a rabbit, possum, or raccoon. It was awhile before they found a good game trail and a few deer tracks, looking like a trio of does had passed by earlier in that morning. Daryl and Denny followed in the direction of their prey.

They weren't on the path long before a familiar cry rang out; a shout for help.

"What?" Denny started to question but a raised hand from Daryl cut him off sharply as he hoisted his crossbow into a battle ready position.

Daryl motioned Denny to follow him silently with a finger pressed to his lips to continue their silence. Denny nodded, overly dramatically as was his nature, and fell in behind Daryl as they raced towards where the cry had come from. The voice had been so familiar; it had stung Daryl so deep that he didn't even dare bring the name to the surface in his mind. It just couldn't be…

When the second shout called out, so much closer than before, Daryl knew he hadn't misheard. He sprinted forth, knowing someone he cared about was in danger. It was a moment later when Daryl burst through the brush, followed closely by Denny, that he confirmed one of his missing family members was indeed in danger.

Carl Grimes was in front of them, fighting for his life. A dozen walkers were advancing on the boy, who stood bravely against them in his sheriff hat. Carl struggled with one as more pressed forward. There was nowhere for the kid to run, he was being pushed back against a dangerous ravine. A few more steps and Carl would have no more footing.

Daryl wasted no time and released a bolt, killing the one chomping eagerly at Carl. Carl's face went from utter despair to surprise, but he didn't spare time looking around for his savior. Instead, he shoved the dead heap to the side and attacked the next walker, hammering it hard in the face with a large stone he held in one hand.

"Get the ones over there, try and pull some away," Daryl ordered Denny as he reloaded quickly.

Denny nodded as he pulled his bat from his back, his blonde hair flopping wildly from the edges of his hat. Denny still preferred his bat to the more obviously dangerous weapons like a knife or ax. He was very effective with the slugger. Denny raced forward, swinging hard and connecting with a large, lumbering walker. The monster lurched forward, brain and bone matter splattering wide as it fell to its knees. Denny kicked it over and swung the bat at the next walker, grunting with the effort.

Carl attacked the next closest walker to him, killing it as he was forced another step backwards. Panic was quickly settling onto the young man's features again. There were so many dead surrounding him, drawn in by the fresh meat before them. None of the walkers seemed to care about the commotion of Denny and Daryl behind them. Daryl raised his bow and fired again, whistling as loud as he could to draw attention in their direction. He killed one and then dropped his bow, pulling his blade out as he marched forward.

Two of the walkers turned back towards Daryl and Denny, but not enough to make a difference. There were still seven walkers advancing on Carl, forcing him backwards yet another step. Carl wasn't going to last long. Daryl ran forward, plunging his knife into the walker eye in front of him and shoved it into the side of another, knocking it down. Denny jumped forward and made sure the ghoul stayed down by bashing his bat into the side of its head. Daryl pulled another walker back, slamming his blade into its skull. He pushed the dead walker hard against the group of others, making it slam sideways into them. Denny took a crack at another walker with skull crunching ferocity; the odds were shifting in their favor but not quick enough.

"Daryl!" cried Carl as he stumbled backwards, struggling with a large walker. Carl looked as desperate as his situation with his torn and beaten clothing and face smeared heavily with dirt and black walker blood.

The walker Carl was up against was huge, a lumbering hulk of dripping, decaying flesh. Daryl knew even he'd be having a hard time against the creature, let alone a weak and tired kid with a cliff behind him. Daryl reached out; snatching at the shirt Carl was wearing. He pulled hard on Carl as he pressed awkwardly with his knife at the walker. Due to the strange angle he was forced to attack at, Daryl missed his mark, sliding off the skull into the tangled mess of scalp and hair before him. The massive walker snapped at Daryl, his teething chomping only inches from his forearm. Carl was moved away from the precarious edge by the pull of Daryl and was out of danger's path.

Once Carl got his footing, he quickly turned and lunged fast and hard with the large rock in his hand. He smashed it hard against the face of the huge dead man with a crunching blow. Teeth and flesh went flying, the jaw and nose of the walker obliterated. The lumbering walker reeled and fell forward, forcing Carl and Daryl to jump to the side; the ledge was dangerously close. A cloud of puffing dirt and grass billowed up when it fell.

Daryl pulled Carl a step away as he looked down at the sharp drop next to him. He remembered his last trip down one of those back at the Greene farm. This ravine had a steep sloping drop down to a small creek. The edges were littered with piles of branches and brush from recently downed trees, perhaps from last spring's horrific storm, and few small boulders. It was probably best to just stay up and dry.

"Good hit, kid," Daryl grunted out, giving Carl a hardy slap to his back and a crooked smile.

"Thanks," replied Carl, his blue eyes wide and bright on his dirt smudged face. "It's really you."

"Yeah, it's me," Daryl answered as he pulled a lingering walker forward and smashing his knife deep into its side brain.

Denny was downing the last walker on the ground. The walker was snarling as Denny held it down with his boot as he golfed the top of its head away. "Safety first." Daryl could hear Denny mutter at the back of his swing. "Quiet second." The young man was like that, methodical and determined.

With the scene cleared, Daryl looked back to Carl. The kid was taller than before, a hell of a lot taller but rail thin. Daryl could see the hollows in his cheekbones and the darkness under his eyes. Carl was still wearing his father's hat, shifted back on his head, a dirty jacket and jeans. He had no pack, no supplies, not even a decent weapon. Just with that quick assessment, Daryl knew Carl's time since the prison had been much harder than his and Beth's.

Carl smiled at Daryl, one that almost reached his tired eyes. He looked as if he was about to say something, his mouth opening but then suddenly he was leaning back. His eyes went panic wide as he tipped back over the edge.

The large walker at their feet had its face demolished but not its brain. Its meaty hand had slapped at Carl, hitting his leg and tipping him back. His body was falling backwards, his arms going out wide. Instinctively, Daryl grabbed at Carl, pulling the boy back up hard, while he smashed a boot down hard on the walker's arm. He heard the bone snap under his weight as he whipped Carl over the huge dead body.

Unexpectedly, the momentum of his actions was too great to keep Daryl steady. _Fuck._ Daryl knew he'd saved Carl but hadn't thought about where he was going to put his feet. Daryl stumbled forward to top ledge of the ravine.

There was a fleeting second when Daryl twisted his body awkwardly to stop from falling forward and it seemed like he had succeeded in preventing himself the precarious drop. But then in the next moment the ground broke, crumbling under his feet. One a single breath, he went from steady to a stomach dropping plunge. It was a short fall that sent him tumbling down the embankment, his body rolling haphazardly down the slope. And when Daryl hit, he hit hard. Smashing, crunching, and crackling on his way down, he flipped and rolled until he landed in the cold water at the bottom.

"Daryl!" His name was cried from above by both Carl and Denny.

Daryl hurt, sure as shit he was, but at least the air hadn't been knocked out of him again as it had been four weeks before. However, he did feel blazing pain at his head again. He was pretty sure he twisted his knee as well and felt a sharp pain at his middle, burning into his abdomen. Daryl was also strangely cold, numb almost, probably from the damn freezing water he was now submerged in. The water wasn't deep, and Daryl was quickly on his knees, his hands pressed hard against the sandy bottom. He tried to shake the excess water from his eyes and face only to see the dark red splatter the area around him… not water… not good.

Carl called out to him again, "Daryl!"

He still hadn't answered them, but he also couldn't understand how they didn't see he was fine. Daryl growled deep in his chest with annoyance. If they kept calling his name, they'd just be bringing more walkers down on them.

Daryl rocked back on to his heels, swaying a bit and dipping to the side. He reached out a hand to steady himself before he scooted to the side bank. There were sticks, stones and logs everywhere, making it difficult for him to move. There was blood dripping down his face into his eyes; Daryl could taste it in his mouth. It hurt a little breathe but he continued to move.

Denny and Carl started to navigate their way to him, bounding dangerous fast down the steep embankment. Daryl shook his head at them, knowing there would now be three of them down here. He could have gotten himself up to the top just damn fine without any help.

Daryl wanted to snap at them but words didn't seem to want to come out even when he opened his mouth to release his sharp displeasure. They could see he was fine, they were just overreacting, rushing in like stupid kids. He pushed up, rising slowly and strangely unsteadily. Carl started to yell at him to stop moving and then shouted louder for his father at the top of his lungs. All Daryl knew was that the kid had to stop yelling, what the hell was his problem?

Finally on his feet, Daryl was filled with a sickening feeling, queasy with a rawness that was almost too painful for him to understand. He knew something wasn't right when he turned and looked fully at the two rushing upon, Carl now screaming for help. Carl reached him first, taking hold of his arm, while Denny shifted to hold the other, bracing Daryl as he swayed. Daryl's head rolled as he saw the absolute horror on their faces, white and scared. Denny was all but whimpering with large unshed tears in his eyes as his hold on Daryl shook.

"What?" Daryl was finally able to slop out as the two young men pulled on him, moving him towards a less steep path to the top.

Carl swallowed thickly, a lump that he couldn't seem to get down as he looked from Daryl's face and down his body. "You're hurt, Daryl. You're… oh, God, it's stickin' outta you…"

Daryl looked down and felt his throat clench tightly. In his abdomen was a stick, a small crooked one about a half inch in diameter. It was jammed up into him, angling up horrible towards his ribs. Fresh red blood stained his shirt. He swayed, the grip of Carl and Denny the only reason he was still on his feet.

"Well, shit…" Daryl huffed out, a chill freezing him at his center. He didn't hurt, not as bad as he thought he should be for having been speared and that wasn't good. Daryl had no way of knowing if it was in an inch or poking all the way out his back.

He felt himself losing control, his legs turned to mush as his body suddenly decided it was done. Carl and Denny caught him, lowering his heavy weight carefully to the ground. Carl shouted for his father again just as everything started to go black for Daryl, not even sure if his eyes were even closing.

His last thought was of Beth and hoped she'd forgive him for breaking his promise about coming back safely as the blackness took him fully. He didn't like to break his promises…

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 **A/N: Did you forget I like cliffhangers? I just love them and there will be more than just one so hopefully you love them just as much as me.**

 **Just an additional little disclaimer – I won't be following most of the original plot lines for this story. In my little universe when everyone zigged on the show, most of them in this storyline zagged. An example of that from HOME is the Claimers – on the show they followed Rick, Michonne and Carl (zigged) and in my storyline they ended up in Daryl and Beth's neck of the woods (zagged). Hopefully it's not too confusing for anyone. As always, let me know how I did on this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know I mostly tell the stories from Beth or Daryl's point of view. In this series I have ventured off and done a few other characters. This story will be no different – in fact there will probably be more chapters than ever from other characters viewpoints. Hopefully everyone enjoys that. Here's the first one. For those that remembered, I promised you a RICK chapter and here it is.**

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CHAPTER 3

"DAD!"

Rick ran, his heart pounding powerfully in his chest. There was no thought, no comprehension in Rick's mind beyond making every fiber of his being, every muscle in his body to obey his forced command. MOVE. RUN. FASTER.

The walker herd had come upon them suddenly, splitting their makeshift camp almost in half unexpectedly. Michonne and he had been on one side roasting a rabbit caught from a snare; it was going to be the first real meal they'd had in days. On the other side, Carl was resting, his hat over his face, after being on night watch. In an instant and knowing there were too many to fight, Michonne had kept a level head and ordered Carl to run as she pulled Rick back. Together, the pair had retreated but fought the walkers as much as they could trying to drawn them off the Carl to give him a chance to escape.

Unfortunately, once Carl had realized his father and Michonne had meant to fight, he turned and did the same bravely if not foolishly. Quickly, Carl had been overwhelmed, losing his knife buried deep into the thick skull of a walker, and he had to flee. The gap between the two groups had been too much to cross, the walkers still heavily streaming into the melee. Rick had to watch helpless alongside Michonne as Carl ran for his life.

Instantly, Rick knew his son had run in the wrong direction. He knew Carl had veered towards a deep ravine with a small creek. He knew his boy was trapped.

Michonne was also running, pacing just behind him with her sword clutched tightly in her fist. His machete was in his hand, blood and gore covered him and the blade from the battle just fought. They had a gun, but it was uselessly strapped to Michonne's back, there were no more bullets left anyway.

Rick sprinted, willing himself to get there in time as he heard his son cry for help again. The desperation in Carl's voice made it difficult for Rick to gulp down air.

Rick burst out of the brush to see a bloodbath before him; dead walkers littered the small open area. There was no sign of Carl, but strangely enough there was a crossbow. Humans meant bigger trouble than walkers these days. Rick felt his heart plummet in his chest despite its desperate beating.

"CARL!" he shouted breathlessly, his eyes frantically searching the area. "CARL!"

A hand popped out of the ravine, bloody and waving. "Here, Dad, over here!"

Michonne and Rick raced to the edge. Carl was half way up, but he wasn't alone. Rick quickly noted two other men. One was collapsed at Carl's feet, obviously injured with a piece of wood sticking from his abdomen. The other younger one was on his knees next to him, very upset.

The pounding in Rick's heart slowed at the sight of his son alive and uninjured, but the next words from Carl's mouth made it stop all together, painfully skipping a beat.

"Daryl, Dad, its Daryl. He's hurt bad," Carl said in a rush, anxiety plastered across his face. "He saved me."

Not even stopping to comprehend that one of his long lost group was found, Rick jumped down the slope, precariously sliding down. Rick couldn't let his mind go there yet even after months of searching after they had found the sign Daryl and Beth had left them. Michonne followed but first safely placed her katana in its holder at her back.

"Wake up, Daryl. Please," pleaded the stranger seated next to the unresponsive Daryl.

Rick placed a hand at his friend's jugular. There was a beat there; it was steady but not terribly strong. Rick winced at the laceration at Daryl's temple, it was deep and steadily seeping a dark red blood. Michonne pulled a rag from her pocked at pressed it to the wound, instructing Carl to hold it firmly as she did.

"What happened?" asked Michonne in a quiet and steady voice so unlike the darting, tense look in her dark brown eyes.

"I was trapped. I was a goner and then… then Daryl and this guy showed up. They saved me. One second all the walkers were down and the next, one was grabbing at me. Daryl pulled me out of danger but then he fell instead. I couldn't… he just fell," Carl explained rapidly

Rick nodded at his son's explanation as he turned his attention to other obvious issue. Both adults stared at the protrusion sticking out of Daryl. There was some blood by the entry but not enough to be a death sentence for his friend. Any movement of the object could potentially release a landslide of blood. However, leaving the stick in would make moving Daryl treacherous and possibly even more deadly than removing. Michonne and Rick looked at each other, silently discussing with their eyes their unfortunate options. To pull or not to pull…

"Please, Daryl, Denny promised. I promised to always bring you home," sobbed the young blonde haired man.

Rick turned his attention and looked at the stranger seated next to him. He wasn't a kid, but not quite an adult either. As Rick took in his features and mannerisms, he realized the man called Denny next to him would never be an adult exactly.

"Denny, is it?" Rick asked as he slowly reached for the man, touching his arm to get his attention. "I'm Rick. I'm a friend of Daryl's."

Denny looked up at him with watery blue eyes. "Friend?"

Rick nodded, trying to smile but it was difficult with the hard stone he had in his gut. "Yeah. So is Michonne here and Carl. You said you had a home? Can we get Daryl there?"

"He won't wake up. Daryl won't wake up," Denny sniffled, looking despondently down at Daryl.

"I know. We need to get 'im help. Can you tell us where home is?" Rick repeated, faking a calmness he didn't feel.

Denny nodded, causing a few tears to fall down his rounded face. "Daryl made me learn if'n I got lost again but I can't drive."

"You got a car?"

Denny wiped his tears away. "Denny can't drive," he lamented. "Daryl is hurt. Why won't he talk to me?"

"Shhh, it's okay," Michonne said, trying to calm him in her soothing voice. "We can drive. We're here to help. We're friends."

"Yeah, we'll help get Daryl home," offered Carl, taking his lead from the adults. He did his best to keep the quivering from his voice.

"First, we're gonna get Daryl up and outta here. Then, can you lead us to the car?" Rick questioned.

Denny took in a gulping breath and nodded. "First, be safe. Second, be quiet. Third, always listen to Daryl," he mumbled, climbing to his feet. "I know how to get back. Denny knows how to follow tracks. Daryl taught me," Denny stated louder.

Slowly and carefully, they lifted Daryl. Michonne took one side, hooking his arm over her shoulder. Rick took Daryl's other side in a similar manner, bracing the man's weight with his other arm around Daryl's waist. Carl went to the top first with his father's machete in his hand. A single walker stumbled out from the woods. Carl used the blade to crack its skull.

The pain and the jostling from the journey to the top caused Daryl's eyes to flutter open. He moved against their hold, shifting his weight. Rick struggled to keep his careful hold on him.

"Whoa, Daryl. We got you," calmed Rick as they reached the top of the slope. The archer was damn heavy.

"Rick?" questioned Daryl. His voice was slurred, his eyes blinking as he swung his head over to look at the bearded man carrying him. " 'At you?"

"Yeah, brother, I got you," Rick grunted out but wasn't sure if Daryl heard him as the injured man dropped his head low again. Daryl became more dead weight than he had been before. The fact he was still steadily breathing was Rick's only sign of hope.

Carl grabbed the crossbow. "Which way?"

Denny pointed in a direction and started them down a path. Fortunately, the distance wasn't as far as Rick had feared. He wasn't sure how much time his friend really had with his injures. Rick didn't want to lose him after just finding him.

A jeep was parked just off the paved road, hidden by some bushes. A person on the main road would have missed it completely. They worked carefully to slide Daryl into the back seat with Michonne holding him tightly She was able to apply pressure to his head wound again, there was no more free flowing blood, but it was still oozing enough to be an issue. Daryl would need all the blood he could get. Rich grabbed the keys from Daryl's pocket after searching a few of them, grateful they hadn't been lost in the fall.

Carl yanked open the other passenger door in back and motioned for Denny to take the front seat. "C'mon, get in. You know the way home?"

A panic look flushed Denny's face, freezing his hand on the door handle. "Oh, no, Mrs. Dixon is gonna be mad. She made me promise to take care of him. Denny was supposed to take care of Daryl. Mrs. Dixon, oh, she's gonna yell. She's gonna be mad. Daryl… safety wasn't first." The tears started to fall again as he frantically started to wring his hands in front of him.

Rick gritted his teeth, pausing as he climbed into the driver seat. There wasn't time for this.

Before he could speak, Carl intervened. He took Denny's arm to get his attention and spoke with a gentleness that was often missing in this new world. "Hey, man, it'll be okay. We'll figure it out. It wasn't your fault. We'll let… um, Mrs. Dixon know that. First, we gotta get Daryl home. Can you do that? Can you help Daryl get _safely_ home?"

Denny focused on Carl, the despair melting from him. "Yeah. Safety first."

"Alright, let's go then." Both young men got in the jeep.

Rick started the jeep, pulling out in the route Denny directed to him. He glanced up at the rear view mirror at Michonne. She looked up at him; her normally steely eyes were worried and pinched.

He tipped up his chin and mouthed the words that confused the hell out of him. _Mrs. Dixon?_ Denny had said the word more than once so there was no confusing what he had been saying. Still, Rick was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of Daryl _being_ with someone, let alone that large of a commitment. Although Daryl had made the transformation from an angry loaner to a trusted leader in their group, he had still stayed very much a solitary man.

Michonne shrugged, a fleeting smirk graced her lips. "If there is one, figures she'd be a yeller."

Rick couldn't help the passing smile on his face; he could always count on Michonne in moments of stress. Rick pressed hard on the gas as the jeep lurched on the paved road.

The directions were simple, but Rick would have never found it without the assistance of Denny. The main entrance looked very blocked and debris ridden but Denny jumped out and moved the seemingly large, but hollow log out of the way. Rick drove more cautiously as their destination came into view. A large farm, not unlike the Greene farm from before, was spread out before him. There were rows of barbed wire fence and sharped posts as a first layer of protection, followed pits and then another fence of chain link.

There was a man running to greet them, a rifle slung over his shoulder. A scout must have noted them before they approached the gate. The man threw open the gate and waved them in. Rick gripped the steering wheel tight; knowing what happened next could go two ways as he drove the vehicle forward. He hoped for the best for Daryl's sake, but knew that rarely happened in the world he lived in now.

It took the man only a moment as the jeep crept forward to realize it wasn't just the two people who had left in the vehicle. He grabbed at his rifle, ripping it around to point the barrel at them.

"Stop!" he shouted, his aim directly on Rick but his eyes wildly searching the car. "Denny? Daryl? You okay?"

Rick pressed on the brake, halting all progress. He spread his hands wide on the steering wheel, no sudden movements.

"I'm going to roll the window down. I'm not going for a weapon," he said loudly, but calmly.

The Hispanic man in front of him took a second to think the statement over before he slowly nodded his head, all of his attention focused on Rick now.

Rick rolled the window down, turning to look at the man who was holding a gun on him. "Name's Rick Grimes. I've got Daryl and Denny in here."

Denny poked his head out the other side and waved. "Daryl's hurt."

The man's brows knitted together. "Rick Grimes. No fucking way. He found you?" The man lowered his rifle and whistled loudly up to the house, getting attention focused on them. "Go up to the second building in back. Is Daryl hurt bad?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah, he needs serious medical attention."

"Go. I'll get Jess," the man ordered, sprinting in the direction of the nearby farm house.

Rick wasted no time and drove the short distance up to the larger brick building. The doors were open and a large red haired woman and younger Hispanic girl were waiting there with worried expressions.

Before Rick was even out of the car, the redhead questioned, "What the hell happened to Double D?" Her long stride brought her quickly to the car, yanking the back door open.

"He fell," answered Rick briskly, joining the woman at the back seat. "Help me get him out."

Michonne transferred Daryl to Rick and the large woman as best she could. The task was difficult but both were able to secure him under his arms as before. Daryl moaned at the change in position, his eyes fluttering open again.

Denny was out of the car now too, watching them move Daryl towards the main building. "Mrs. Dixon is gonna be mad." His breaths were coming in gulps again as he tried to not to start to cry again.

"Hey, Denny, it'll be okay. I'm sure it wasn't your fault," reassured the younger woman, taking hold of him by the shoulder.

"She told me to watch out for him. She told Denny to keep him safe, Tina. I didn't," he cried sorrowfully.

"Shh," Tina hushed as she wrapped her arm around him. "Come help us, we'll get the doors for them."

The two opened the doors wide for Rick and the woman as they shuffled Daryl inside the building. Rick noted other people running towards the building, he couldn't exactly count how many but he hoped this place was safe. He shot a quick look to Michonne, nodding towards Carl who was slowly exiting the car. His son was even noting the number of people that were quickly coming out at the excitement happening. A silent look between the adults was exchanged. Michonne moved to stay by Carl, her hand wasn't on a weapon but she was ready if needed. Rick hoped this place was safe. He trusted Daryl not to be in a bad place but with the man unconscious in his arms, Rick couldn't take any chances. He needed to keep what family he still had safe.

"Mrs. Dixon," cried Denny as he released the door behind them and ran to a woman holding a baby who had just entered from a hallway.

Rick did not immediately believe what he saw standing in front of him. He had to blink hard twice, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. Denny dropped to his knees in front of Beth Greene, blubbering. There stood Beth Greene with an infant in her arms, her cooing song abruptly interrupted by the sudden commotion.

"Denny, what's the matter? Who-" Beth started until she realized what was happening. "Daryl!" she cried, side stepping Denny as she raced towards them, clutching the baby to her chest safely.

"Sherri, what happened? Rick?" Beth looked franticly from Daryl to Sherri and finally to Rick. Surprise and dismay skewed her features when she noted the stick protruding from his abdomen. "Oh, God, Daryl," she uttered, breathlessly.

"Beth," breathed Rick, still not completely believing his own eyes as he followed Sherri's direction toward the back of the room. "He saved Carl. He's alive but he's bleeding and stabbed," Rick was able to get out but his mind had a hard time focusing. Daryl was alive, now Beth… who else could be here? His mind was racing with the possibilities.

A woman raced to meet them from behind, Rick guessing it was the supposed Jess that had been mentioned earlier. Beth threw her a desperate look, pressing her lips together hard.

"Tigo said Daryl was hurt so what do we have here? What'd you do now, Dixon?" Jess said with a light heartedness that fell instantly from her when she saw Daryl from the front. "Oh, fuck. C'mon people. Let's move him so I can get a look at him in the infirmary. Beth, you okay?"

Beth nodded stiffly. "I can do this."

"Good, I'm gonna need you," Jess said in earnest to Beth. "Here man, let me take him. You look fucking pale." Jess motioned to Rick and moved without waiting for an answer to take Daryl from Rick.

Rick didn't want to at first, wanting to stay with the man who had just saved the life of his son. In the end, the force of the woman in front of him and the shock of what had just happened had settled into him. The adrenalin from earlier was wearing off; he could feel his legs start to shake. Rick let Jess take Daryl from him. She struggled only a little under the larger man's weight; she was a strong woman like Sherri.

Denny came back next to Beth, tugging at her shirt hem. "Sorry, Mrs. Dixon. Denny didn't take care of 'im, Mrs. Dixon. I didn't make 'im safe.

Still feeling like he was seeing a ghost when he looked at Beth, Rick's shock was doubled at Denny's words. It hadn't settled in when they had rushed Daryl in but now it hit Rick hard. _Mrs. Dixon? Little Beth Greene?_

"Tina, can you?" Beth said as she turned to hand the baby to the younger woman. Tina took the infant carefully into her hold, rocking the small child. "Oh, Denny, it isn't your fault. I'm not mad, but I have to go help Daryl," she reassured the crying man, trying to follow the others to the infirmary.

"You ain't?" Denny questioned, his hand not releasing her shirt.

"No." Beth hugged him quickly and pushed away, her focus was on Daryl. She rushed to follow, almost running for the hall way Jess, Sherri and Daryl had just disappeared down.

Rick was a loss for words. "Beth?" he called out.

Beth whipped her head back, but didn't stop her motion. She sent him a questioning look from her worried face.

He held his hands out open, his mind not really ready to form the question he wanted. Rick settled for asking, "Mrs. Dixon?"

She paused at the corner, a hand on the wall stopping her body before it turned down the hallway. Beth smiled softly and nodded. She didn't wait for him to respond; she disappeared around the corner and was gone.

What the hell had he missed? Rick stood there and ran an errant hand through his bushy beard. He glanced over at the woman, Tina, holding the baby. There was a baby too? In what, about a year's time? Rick knew it had been about a year since the prison had fallen but it all seemed so fast. He should know better than anyone a lot can happen in less time. Hell, his wife and best friend had… Rick stopped the thought instantly. It was a dark place where those thoughts dragged him.

Rick turned and walked back out the way he came, deciding it was better to go find Michonne and Carl than keep standing there hashing out a past he didn't need to. Michonne and Carl were standing next to the car still. The man from the gate, Tigo, was talking with Michonne, questioning her. There were a few others gathered around but no one looked threatening. For the moment, this place seemed safe. Daryl and Beth were here, they had people willing to help them. It had to be something.

Without saying a word, Rick walked to his son and engulfed him in a hug. He knew the world was a dangerous place; every day could be their last. Still, he had almost lost Carl less than an hour ago and the father in him was eternally grateful he was still able to hug his son. Carl hugged him back with a strength that put his heart at ease. He still had his son.

Michonne placed a hand on his back, patting a soft circle there. Rick looked at her from over Carl's head. Michonne pulled her lips back and graced him with a smile. Her smile was one that had captivated him more than he'd like to admit lately. A smile that stirred something deep inside Rick, rousing feelings that had been gone for such a long time. There had never been time to consider it. At the prison, Michonne had hunted the Governor for such a long time and his focus had been on the children. Since then, they'd be running and moving, staying a few places but they had never been safe enough. The three of them had been in a constant state of hunger, worry, fear and exhaustion for such a long time. Rick worried it had been too long, that they had missed their chance, but when Michonne smiled at him like that he knew they hadn't. There was still time, there was still hope.

"Daryl?" Michonne asked.

Rick released Carl and took a step back. "They took him in back. Looks bad but its Daryl, he's tough."

"Hombre is tough as nails," said Tigo, offering his reassurance.

Michonne nodded in agreement, but Carl looked up at him, worried.

Rick connected his eyes with Carl's, knowing the guilt of Daryl saving him was going to weigh heavily on the boy. "He'll be okay. They got good people workin' on him. Seem to know what they're doin'."

"Mrs. Dixon? Did you see her?" Carl asked.

Rick couldn't stop the huff of breath that left him. "I saw her."

"She mad? At that poor guy, Denny?" asked Carl, tipping his hat back into place after his father's fierce hug.

Rick shook his head slowly. "Nah. She'd never be."

Michonne tilted her head slightly, eyeing Rick slyly. "What do you mean?" The woman could always tell when he was holding something back. There would be no secrets from that one.

Absent mindedly, Rick rubbed at the back of his neck. He looked from Carl to Michonne. "Mrs. Dixon… its Beth Greene."

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 **A/N: Thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So funny – not really funny – story… a manager at my work put in his notice. The one person he worked closely with decided they should leave too, mainly because they didn't want to have to do his work and they didn't really need to work either (family money). Long story short – I get to do both their jobs now until we figure this mess out. You see we have this super fun thing at work where if you are good at your job, you get to do other people's jobs too. It's awesome!**

 **So with that being said, I stated I was only going to post weekly. I'm going to try real hard to keep to that but I feel like it might be impossible for the next month or more. Please forgive me in advance. Also please forgive my numerous errors. I have no Beta and I can never see the fault in my own work .**

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CHAPTER 4

Beth's hands were covered in blood. The blood had dried so it was dark and itchy and made her hands stiff but at least it wasn't fresh anymore. That was what was important. Jess and Beth had stopped the bleeding at both wounds. It had taken awhile and Jess, although she never said it out loud, had looked just as worried as Beth had felt. The branch that had pierced his abdomen had somehow missed every vital organ with a one in a thousand shot, angling into him only a few inches. There had been damage, Jess and Beth barely had enough skill between them to piece him back together but somehow they had managed.

The pair had just finished stitching Daryl up, both his head and his lower wound. He had come to once in the middle, asking for her. Beth had been right there, taking his hand in hers. Daryl had squeezed her hand, not hard, but enough to know he would be okay. Beth had done her best to reassure and calm his movements down; even she knew the pain had to have been intense. His grip had been weak but Daryl had held tightly to her hand, not loosening even when his eyes closed again.

Daryl was pale, white with grey under his eyes, but he was going to live. Daryl never gave up that easily. He was resting now which Beth knew was best as he needed to recover but that still didn't stop the wish that he would open his eyes again and look at her, just to let her know he was truly going to be fine. Jess had wanted a transfusion but lacked the supplies. For now, they had bundled him under blankets after bandaging him, needing to keep him warm due to his blood loss. They could only do so much to counter the effects of the shock and trauma to his body.

Jess dried her hands, the towel she had in her hands was hued red from the blood. "He's a tough SOB, ain't he?"

Beth nodded as she went to the sink to clean herself up also. "He doesn't know how to quit."

Jess walked back to the cot that Daryl was laying in. She pulled another grey blanket up on him to his shoulders. He was no longer wearing the jacket and shirt; those were lying on the floor, bloody and torn. In their place was a new bandage on his torso and his temple.

The brunette looked back at Beth, who was soaping her hands under warm water vigorously. "All them scars… they're not from, you know, all this shit that's happened since the world went to hell. Most are old… from before."

Beth slowed the lathering of her hands, considering how to answer. She nodded gently. Daryl was a private man. He hadn't wanted Jess to see his scarred back the first time they had met but this time there hadn't really been away around it.

"Yes. There is the one on his chest from the day you met us. And then an arrow that went through his side back at my family's farm. Otherwise, yes, they are all very old," Beth said simply as she turned to look at Jess, grabbing a towel for her hands.

They held each other's gaze for a long moment. The weight of the scars measured carefully between the two friends. Jess gave Beth a simple nod back, and Beth knew nothing else would be said about the scars.

Beth went back to Daryl, dragging a stool over next to his cot. She sat next him and took his colder than normal hand in hers. She knew he was most likely going to be out all night, but she wanted to be here for him just in case. She wanted to be here when he opened his eyes.

"Hey," Jess said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Those people, the ones that brought him in. You know them, don't you?"

"Yes. They are our family. The ones we've been lookin' for."

"Is your sister with them?"

Beth drew in a deep breath. "I don't know. I only saw Rick. Daryl said a couple names when he woke up that one time, but I'm not sure he knew what he was talkin' about before he passed out again."

Jess gave Beth's shoulder a hard squeeze, one full of reassurance and understanding. "And you're still here, chica? Go. Find them and find out. I'll stay here with Daryl while you're gone. I promise you, he's not gonna wake up anytime soon."

Beth hesitated, her hand not leaving her husband's. She wanted to go, her stomach starting to flutter at the thought of being reunited with family. She desperately wanted to know, but Beth couldn't seem to pull her hand from Daryl's. He needed her. She felt she needed to be here, next to him.

"It's okay, Beth. I promise. Go," Jess urged quietly, understanding the pull Beth was having at the moment.

Tears stung her eyes as Beth stood slowly, her fingers lingering on Daryl as she pulled away. "Thanks, Jess. I'll only be a moment."

"Take your time. Grab a bite to eat at least. I know you're gonna want to stay all night."

Beth gave a curt nod as she went to leave. She walked stiffly, carrying the strain of the day in between her shoulder blades painfully. It wasn't bright outside anymore; the day was gone. It seemed like only a moment ago she'd been holding Isaac, gently calming the fussy baby while his mother took a much needed break and shower. Then in the next moment, her whole world had almost imploded upon its self. The sight of her husband being carried limply in, his head hung with his face covered in blood and a staff sticking from his body. Just the memory chilled her blood.

She almost didn't notice Rick when she walked out the door. He was braced against the opposite wall, resting on the floor. He looked tired and dirty, a wilder and rougher man than she remembered from the prison. Rick scrambled to his feet when he saw her.

"Beth," Rick rasped, standing cautiously before her. "Daryl… He okay?"

Releasing a shaky breath, Beth came to stand in front of him. "He's hurt pretty bad. We stitched him up as best we could. He's resting now. I'm sorry… if I'd known you were waiting out here I would have come and told you. It took longer than we thought. I'm sorry, I guess, well. If I – I…" Beth realized she was rambling but didn't know how to stop until Rick's hand on her arm made her pause.

She looked into the face of the man that had been her leader, one that had kept her and her family alive for so many months. He had sacrificed so much of himself, his health, and his family to ensure their survival. Rick wasn't that same man from her family's farm anymore, just as she wasn't the same scared teenager anymore. His brilliant blue eyes were trained intensely on her, holding unease and concern.

It had been the tipping point for Beth, the look in his eyes. She started to cry, tears streaming down her face before she even realized it was happening. Once Beth did, a flood was released. It wasn't necessarily weakness that was coming pouring out of her as much as it was relief. Daryl was hurt but alive and safe. Rick was alive and standing before her.

Rick's large arms enveloped her, bring her into his fold. "Beth."

"Rick," she murmured back, wrapping her arms around him and crying into his chest. The man before her was lean; Beth could feel ribs and vertebrae even in her gentle embrace.

He held her, letting her weep against him, allowing her to pour it all out. Relief had been first, but now so many emotions started to mix in and rushed out of her. The last time Beth had seen Rick, her father had been decapitated in front of her. Her world had come crashing down, her family changed forever. A twinge of sadness broke into her, knowing it should be her father comforting her now with her husband injured. Beth also was afraid to say anymore, she was frightened to ask who. Who among them had survived? Who was with Rick just beyond those doors a few feet away? Beth knew when she asked, she'd get bombarded with joy and disappointment. She knew she needed to ask but the words just wouldn't come out.

It was Rick who spoke when she couldn't. "We saw 'em. The signs. A few months back, the ones that said Daryl and Beth were here. Daryl and Beth were _alive_. It kept us going, it kept us searching. We stayed around, looking for both of you but it seemed you were both long gone. We found the place, I think, destroyed. We looked in the area but a herd drove us north. And then Daryl found us."

Beth sniffled, her breath hitching, and found enough voice to ask, "Who is we?" She pulled back and looked up at Rick with watery blue eyes. "Who is with you? Is… Maggie?" Beth couldn't stop her voice from breaking when she said her lost sister's name; the last person in the world left that she had a genetic connection with, Maggie.

Rick opened his mouth but no words came out. He couldn't say it; he couldn't bring himself to utter that disappointment. Rick just sadly shook his head and took a step back, releasing her from his hold.

"Michonne and Carl and me, that's we. We've been together since just after… after the prison fell. We haven't seen anyone else. . The only sign we had was what you left us a couple months ago."

"Judith?" Beth wiped a few errand tears away while she asked, not bringing herself to look Rick in the eye while she asked that question.

His jaw tensed before he answered, "Didn't make it. There was – was blood in her carrier… she wasn't there…" It was his turn for his eyes to water now, but no tears fell. "I don't know who made it and who didn't. We never found the bus…"

Beth saw her pain echoed in Rick. She reached for him again, engulfing him this time in a hug. Her question had been as painful as his answer, she could tell. He felt so much responsibility; much like Daryl did for what a madman had done to all of them.

"Rick, I'm so sorry."

They stood there for a while with her arms holding around his chest, his hands gripping her back. Their breathing was hitched but there was no more crying. Just a moment of comfort between family members with shared pain.

Finally, they released each other with somber hints of smiles when they looked at one another. They at least had each other now.

"Where are Michonne and Carl?" asked Beth.

Rick nudged his head down the hallway. "Paula and Tigo… they took 'em to get washed up and some food." He paused, a hand rubbing against his beard, the look in his eyes turning intense. "Is this place safe, Beth? Are you and Daryl safe?"

Beth nodded, sure in her answer. "Yes. It's safe here, as safe as any place can be nowadays."

"I saw the fences on the way in, the pits too."

"We need to finish the pits still, we started this spring but it was long hard work and there are so few of us here. It's not perfect, but we make do."

Rick's tone shifted to lower and more serious as he asked his next question, "The people here… you trust them?"

Unlike with the other questions Beth paused thoughtfully before answering Rick. The people here were good, she didn't fear for her safety among them. But could she trust them? Daryl had been left behind once already…

"They can be trusted… mostly," Beth explained thoughtfully. "They aren't as tested out in the world. They're learnin'. They had this place first and took a bunch of us in. So they are good people… I just don't know if you could trust them to have your back when it counts. I don't know if I trust all of 'em that much. It wouldn't be for lack of tryin' for most, it'd be they just wouldn't know how to."

Rick took in her words with a significance he had never appreciated to her before. She had never been part of the inner circle, never giving advice to anyone before. Beth had only been tasked with raising the young Judith so it felt strange to be giving council to her old leader, weirder yet that he seemed to be listening.

"Will they let us stay?" Rick asked his voice low and rasped.

"Yes," Beth returned with a smile. Daryl and Beth had both spoke with the group about their lost people. All of their group would be invited to stay if they had ever been found. "C'mon. Let's go find Michonne and Carl. We can talk more together. I only have a little time. I need to get back to Daryl."

Rick's eyes shifted back to the infirmary but he said nothing at the comment, only followed Beth's lead to the mess hall area.

Michonne and Carl were seated with a few others, all quietly eating. All eyes were on her and Rick once they entered the room.

Paula quickly asked, "Daryl ok?" There was a depth to the worry lines that were etched in the older woman's face.

"Yes, he should be okay soon. Jess is with him now, I'm just out to see my family quickly," explained Beth as she looked over at Michonne and Carl.

" _Gracias a Dios_. I was so worried when Sherri told me. Vincent took your watch, so don't worry. You take care of Daryl." Marie rose, gesturing at the table. "Sit here, I'll get you some stew. It's still warm, others just finished." Marie disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors in a rush.

Beth walked over to her family, hugging them both with a fierceness she couldn't contain. She was amazed how tall Carl had become; Beth no longer had to look down at him but rather could look the young man straight in the eyes. Michonne smiled at her when the two women had separated, but there had also been a roguish glint in her eyes. Beth understood the look as soon as Michonne took her left hand, a thumb rubbing over the simple diamond and gold bands. Carl tipped his dirty hat back, his eyes brows raised as his father came to stand next to him; an expectant look in Rick's eyes. There it was, the question nobody voiced but all wanted to know.

She never had worried, like Daryl had, about their relationship. Beth knew not everyone had approved in the beginning, that there had been questions and concerns about their differences. She never gave others' opinions much thought. As far as she was concerned, they shouldn't be concerned. You can only be happy in this world when people found love, everything else could just fall away. She had no doubt her family had questions, but she knew they wouldn't be _worried_. Beth looked down at her hand, and then back up at her family. Yes, the question was in their eyes alright.

A slow smile played across Beth's tired face. "Yes. Daryl and I are _married_."

"Holy shit, it's true," Carl sputtered out.

"Carl," reprimanded Rick without any real venom. Rick looked thoughtfully at her and Beth knew his mind was racing with more questions of how, when and why. Questions she knew wouldn't be critical but more curious because even she was a little amazed herself when her feelings began to turn almost a year ago in a little one bedroom cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Michonne's normally cool, stoic expression changed to one of almost disbelief. Her eyes widen and blinked rapidly before she could recover with a slight smile and nod. Her family might have been told, but now they _knew_.

Beth's smile grew into a grin at their shock. "It's a bit new, but yes, Daryl and me."

"Can't be that new if there's a baby," countered Michonne, looking to Rick.

"What?" questioned Beth, not understanding where that information was coming from.

"You were holding an infant when I first saw you," Rick answered.

Beth blushed slightly but it was Paula who interjected. "Oh, no, Isaac is Tigo and Kayla's little miracle. Beth was just holdin' the little fussy guy for his momma."

"Daryl and I, we got out together from the prison," Beth explained further. "Just the two of us this whole time. Well, I guess you'd say we kinda grew on each other. This ring, this us… just happened recently." Beth couldn't stop the bashful smile that expanded as she thought about the last few months.

Sherri huffed loudly as she had been walking in from the kitchen to hear Beth's statement. "God help us if'n it was more than that. Fuckin' makin' out every time they get. How's my damn Double D?"

Beth rolled her eyes, knowing the woman never missed an opportunity to razz them over their reuniting kiss from four weeks before. Then, after dressed and leaving their explorations of the shower, there might have been a stop-over against a door in the hallway between the two lovers. Sherri happened to be the one who stumbled upon them. Clothes had been in all the right places, it was just hands that might have been under them. The red-haired woman never let them live it down.

Despite the teasing, Beth knew Sherri was genuinely concerned. "He'll live. Jess is with 'im now. He's resting. Daryl'll probably be out all night."

Sherri's gruff demeanor disappeared completely, a shaky breath leaving her tired body. "Ya sure? He need anythin'? He didn't look so fuckin' good when they brought 'im in?"

Beth softened at the Sherri's display of concern. "Daryl'll need a lot of time to get better but he should recover fine." Beth wanted to add _I hope_ , knowing medical complications were nothing to take lightly in the world they lived in but the distress on Sherri's face stopped her. Beth knew nothing was certain but her love for Daryl and his determination not to disappoint her. Yeah, Beth knew Daryl would live.

"Ya let me know if ya need anthin'. _Anythin'_ ," Sherri added with punctuation before she turned to leave.

Marie came back through the kitchen doors, carefully bypassing the escaping Sherri, with two steaming bowls of food in her hands. She set them down on the table as she ushered Beth and Rick to sit.

"Eat, eat. You're thin, Rick, please. Carl? A third bowl?" Marie asked.

Carl nodded eagerly. "Yes," he answered, adding as Marie took his empty bowl, "Please."

"Michonne? How about you?"

The warrior woman shook her head and handed the empty bowl to Marie. "No, two was enough. It was delicious so thank you."

Beth sat down next to Rick. The man was already eating, shoveling food into his mouth as if someone was going to take it from him. All three of her family members looked at her expectantly. Here is where she talked; here is where Beth knew she told them their story, hers and Daryl's story.

"All I remember about that first night is that we ran," Beth began, stirring the steaming stew. "Daryl grabbed me and we just ran. I followed those wings all throughout the darkness…"

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 **A/N: No cliffhanger here. Happy?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry this update is so late. As I alluded to before, work has gotten horrendous with 10 and 12 hour days. Add in my kids travelling soccer teams with a hubby out on the West coast and you don't get your updates on time. I wish I could say I would be back on track soon but in attempt to help coach said soccer teams, I broke my foot. As I write, it's up and iced and not so throbby as it was yesterday. At least I get a walking boot and not a real cast due to the type of fracture I have. Please hang in there with me, I'm doing my best. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I've done my best to leave my readers in a good place while I get my life back in order – updates will be sporadic until life settles down.**

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CHAPTER 5

As the blackness lifted, Daryl knew one thing. She was there beside him. Beth was there with him. He couldn't explain if it was her breathing he heard or the touch of her hand on his was the reason he knew. He just knew. She was right beside him as she always would be.

The next thing that hit him was the pain. He hurt every fucking where. He's had some shitty things happen to him in his life and honestly pain was never new to him. His father had been an expert at doling it out. So sadly, this pain that swarmed him wasn't even the worst he'd felt in his life. However, it was enough for him to squeeze his already closed eyes tighter and reflexively clench his wife's hand.

"Daryl?" Beth whispered, feeling his touch tighten. Still not having opened his eyes yet, he heard and felt her shift next to him. A cool hand was suddenly on his forehead, stroking his hair back. "Daryl?"

Daryl released a groaning hiss. It was the only communication he was capable of at the moment, sucking another painful breath in between gritted teeth. He took a moment, trying to recall where the hell all the damn pain had come from.

There was a haze surrounding all his recent memories. Daryl could remember the morning, trying to pull at the last thing he could recollect clearly. He was instantly regretting he'd ever left that bed with Beth that morning. After that, Daryl could recall Denny and running and walkers. It was messy after that, a mixture of falling, fear and blood. Daryl clenched painfully as his own body got a hold of the memory of tumbling down, hitting him against rocks and hard dirt. There had been people yelling, calling to him. They had faces that seemed like they should be familiar, but everything was so mixed up at the moment.

Beth pulled him from the memories, her hand clutching tighter on his as she called him forth again. "Daryl? Daryl, please answer me. Open your eyes, honey, please." Her voice was whisper soft in its pleading, but it was enough to pull him out of the gray, swirling memories.

His throat was dry and tight, making it hard to speak. "Ah'm here," Daryl mumbled as he gripped her hand back.

Beth released a shaky breath. "Oh, thank God." Her hand stroked him ever so gentle on the forehead again.

Daryl allowed his eyes to flitter open, thinking he was going to be struck by the brilliant light of day, but instead found almost complete pitch black. It took him a moment to find Beth's face, pale even in the darkness. There was just the tiniest amount of light coming from a cracked door; the emergency lighting from the hallway was one of the few they had on when it was the dark of night. Its glow wasn't so much to be seen outside of the dormitory they lived in, but enough to allow them to walk the windowless hallways.

The last he'd seen it'd been late morning and now it was the pitch dark of night. What the hell had happened?

"How bad is the pain?" inquired Beth once she'd seen his eyes open. He could tell his wife was already going into nurse mode. Daryl had seen it before when he'd returned with that bump on the back of his head the weeks prior. "How's your vision?"

"S'okay," he grunted with effort. It burned a little in his chest and abdomen to breathe, let alone force air out to speak.

When he grimaced in pain, Beth, of course, took notice. "Liar. How bad, Daryl?"

If Beth could tell in this darkness without him saying a damn thing then it must be as bad as it felt. Daryl knew he might as well fess up. "Bad," he gritted out. His eyes pinched in pain as he tried to shift in the bed. It hurt from his head to his ribs and down to his knees. It was so much worse than his last fall.

Beth left his bed side and returned moments later with a cup, one of those with the plastic cover and straw coming out. It was the kind that looked like it should be for a kid but was the kind adults all carried around with their fancy iced coffee or mocha monstrosities or whatever shit those kinds of people drank before the world went to hell.

"Open," Beth ordered gently as she helped lift his throbbing head from the pillow. She pressed two pills against his lips. Daryl gave a little defiant shake of his head, one that made stars appear. He didn't want to take anything knowing he was already loopy enough. He needed to get his head back on straight.

"Don't argue, Daryl. You need this to sleep and get better. I promise I won't give you more than you need. And if you remember what happened, you'll know you need this. Please," Beth said in that firm but gentle tone she had. The type of tone that made one realize that given a chance, this woman would make an excellent mother.

Since just that little of motion was enough to send his hurt skyrocketing, Daryl relented and parted his lips. Beth slid the pills in and brought the straw to his mouth. Daryl sipped in the water greedily, forcing the large pills down his gullet. He gulped more of the cool water, feeling it soothe his parched, burning throat but stopped once a queasy feeling started to rise up from his stomach.

Beth pulled the cup away once he was done, setting it off to the side where Daryl was unable to see in the dark. When she was back, Beth shifted herself to be as close as she could be without actually touching him. She was wary of how much pain he was in, and Daryl was grateful despite the fact he was desperate for her to touch him more. As if sensing that, Beth pulled his hand into hers again, clutching it with both of hers.

Her soft blue eyes grew watery. "Don't you scare me like that again, Daryl," Beth whispered to him. Her fingers tightened reflexively around his cold hand.

Daryl didn't like the look of distress in her eyes. "I promised to never leave you. I keep my promises," he murmured back. His eyes were desperately fighting to stay open. He couldn't remember being this tired before.

His words put a little smile on her lips and made Daryl feel slightly better. He didn't like to see Beth worry so. And he hated it even more that he was the reason.

Beth leaned forward and graced him with a gentle peck to his forehead. "Yes, you do."

He still wasn't sure exactly why she was so upset, other than he was flat on his back in pain. "I don't… I think I fell," Daryl said with a frown, the exact memory still hiding from him.

Concern flooded back to Beth's face as her brows knitted together. "You don't remember? What's the last thing you remember?"

Daryl let out a little dry cough, wincing at the motion it caused, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I remember the mornin', leavin' with Denny. I… I was goin' huntin'. Then…" he paused as it was a sudden rush of pictures and snap shots of images of what had happened. . "There… there were walkers. I had to help him." A face popped up in his mind suddenly and Daryl opened his eyes wide to look over at Beth. "Carl? I saw Carl? And Rick… I think… didn't exactly look the same…"

Beth nodded encouragingly. "Yes, and Michonne too. You fell down a ravine saving Carl from the walkers that had split him from Rick and Michonne. You were pretty banged up and were punctured by a stick. It didn't perforate anythin' important or nothin'. There's a nasty gash on your head too… it'll scar but if you're awake and talkin'… then you were lucky. We were so lucky…" She stroked back his hair once more, carefully avoiding the bandage at his brow.

Daryl stayed silent for some time, letting the fragments of his memories get pieced together by what Beth had just told him. Rick, Carl and Michonne were real.

He took a stabilizing breath and dared to ask more. "Carol? Maggie?"

With a sharp shake of her head, Beth's eyes flittered down. "No," she whispered back. "Just them. They've been together since the prison. They haven't seen anyone else. They saw our signs… they saw them, the ones by the cabin. They were lookin' for us for a while now. Rick…" Beth stopped, biting down on her lip to stop from saying more.

"What?" he questioned in a grated tone. Daryl could tell she was holding back.

Beth shook her head, not wanting to say more. "Later."

"Tell me."

Beth sighed sadly. "Judith," she whispered so softly that Daryl almost didn't hear her. Beth closed her eyes and a single tear escaped down her cheek. "Rick said… she's gone. She's been gone since the prison."

A shaky breath escaped Daryl before he felt his throat clench up tightly. He allowed his head to sink back into the pillow. Daryl had to force himself not to shut his eyes, to stop all the emotions that were flooding to burst out if he did. He squeezed his wife's hand as hard as he could, sensing she was hurting just as much as he was if not more. It was a long breadth of silence between the couple as they held onto each other.

It was Daryl that broke the silence when his throat finally worked again. "Lil' Asskicker… I knew this fuckin' world was too hard but I'd hoped…" he uttered in a voice that was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"Me too, Daryl, me too," Beth returned, wiping at another escaping tear.

Daryl could feel his own eyes getting wetter but looked straight up at the ceiling, trying to will his tears to not fall. "It's your damn fault, ya know," he mumbled with absolutely no malice in his tone.

"What is?" she questioned quietly.

He growled, still trying to fight the ever growing sorrow that was filling his chest and making it harder to breathe than before. "Never had any hope 'fore you, not really… Now… for Judy… it's gone. Damn, this hurts." The hand not clutching Beth's rose shakily to his chest and covered his heart.

"Daryl," Beth cried sadly. "I know… I'm sorry." There was pain all over her face.

"Don't be," he returned, not caring if a tear fell when he turned to look at her again. "It's better… I guess, havin' hope. It ain't a bad thing to have. It's just… when it's gone… Damn." Daryl squeezed his eyes shut tightly; it was more than just his body hurting at the moment.

"I know. I loved Judith too. At least we… know. And now we have part of our family back. We have Rick and Carl and Michonne," Beth replied, forcing the smallest of smiles on her face.

Daryl nodded slowly. "Yeah. They okay?" Despite the hurt he was feeling, a weight of tiredness started to settle of him.

"Yes," murmured Beth. "They're tired and hungry and filthy but they're here and they're safe."

"And hairy," joked Daryl with his blue eyes starting to droop.

Beth huffed the slightest of chuckles. "Yeah, Rick looked like a mountain man when I first saw him."

"I'm… tired," Daryl mumbled, his mouth starting to not work the way he wanted as he closed his eyes. The pills she had given him must have been strong as he was already feeling their effect.

"Rest now," she whispered softly, brushing his hair back again. "Rest. I'll be here."

And he did, trusting she would be.

 **################################**

The next time Daryl emerged from his own darkness Beth was still there by him. Despite the blackness of night, Daryl could see her half hunched over on his bed, dozing lightly. At the slightest shift of his body, Beth had bounced awake. A few words and gentle touches passed between them, followed by more water and another round of different sized pills. It wasn't long before he drifted back into the darkness, his body and mind still so drained from his ordeal.

The third time Daryl opened his eyes, it was different. The light of the day seemed to flood the room. He had to blink away the whiteness that assaulted him. Beth was gone from her spot next to him, replaced by Rick seated in a chair close by. It wasn't exactly the sight Daryl wanted to wake up to, preferring the petite figure of his wife to the hulking figure of his friend. Rick looked freshly shaven and not the wild and dirty figure he remembered in his brief and hazy memory that still swirled in his head. Rick definitely looked older, more than the year they had been apart. He had deeper lines on his face, a new scar on his chin and a larger expansion of grey peppering in his hair.

"Daryl?" Rick asked quietly.

Daryl grunted in response, letting his friend know that he was indeed awake now. "Beth?" he rasped.

"Sent her to get some food. She hasn't left your side and barely ate more than two bites of a quick dinner she had last night. You've been out of it for a while. I told her I'd watch ya for her. It was the only way to get her outta this room. She's better now that you've woken up a few times. She was worried last night… we were all worried," Rick answered, shifting his chair closer to Daryl's bedside.

Daryl was still in pain but not the blazing hell he had been in before. The ache at his abdomen was there and burning but more tolerable. His head was still filled with fuzzy details along with throbbing that made him squint against the light in the room. Daryl shifted, attempting to roll to his side to rise but stopped at the gasping effort it took. The muscles at his middle screamed painfully at him for his movement.

"Whoa, Daryl, no moving! You need to stay here." Rick leapt forward and placed a calming but forceful hand to his chest, pressing Daryl back down slowly.

"Need to get up. Need to…" Daryl started but couldn't finish his sentence. He wasn't sure what he needed to do, but Daryl knew staying in bed wasn't the best option despite the fuzzy gray spots swirling around his vision. "Gotta… Beth needs…"

"You need to rest, Daryl. It's good here. Everyone including Beth is safe," Rick said to calm him as if he knew what Daryl needed to hear.

Daryl rested his head back to his pillow. It was safe at the Wilken farm, relatively at least. Daryl knew that, it just took a moment longer than usual for him to remember that. He raised a shaky hand to his forehead and touched the throbbing area at his hairline. Daryl felt the bandages and the bumpy stitches underneath. He didn't like the confusion that was swarming him, but he knew a head injury could do that to a person. And in this world, a man could only be injured for so long. He'd been in bed long enough; it was time for him to get up.

"I should get up," grumbled Daryl. "It's morning. Been layin' on my ass for long enough…"

Rick's eyes pinched. "Daryl, it's almost night again. The sun is setting, no need to rush to meet the day."

Daryl sent Rick a confused look. "What? It's…" Then he noticed the white of the light had faded, settling into a soft glowing orange and rose filling the room. He'd missed that the light had been the setting sunlight.

"It's okay," Rick offered. "You fell two days ago. You woke up a bit last night but that was more than twelve hours ago. We tried to wake you earlier but couldn't get you to do more than mumble and you never opened your eyes. Beth was so worried, I'm surprised I got her to leave and that was just two minutes ago. I should go get –"

"No," Daryl cut Rick off sharply. He was too off center to see Beth; he needed to get his head on straight. Hours and memories were jumbled in his whirling head, clouded further by the constant pain. "Man, this is so messed up," groaned Daryl, rubbing a shaking hand down his face.

"It's okay, we got you, Daryl. I just know Beth and everyone here will be so relieved. Do you need anythin'?"

Daryl closed his weary eyes and gave a small but noticeable shake of his head. He didn't need anything, just a moment to recollect his thoughts from the haze. It was slow but everything was starting to come back to him. Visions of Carl struggling against walkers in the woods and waking up with Beth hoovering over him came forward in his mind. It was all still hazy, the details were a little gray around the edges, but it was all coming back slowly. Daryl didn't like to move slowly, he was used to being fast and decisive. It's what kept you alive.

Daryl sighed roughly and opened his eyes again. Rick was looking down at him with concern in his blue eyes.

"Carl okay?" Daryl asked.

Rick must have sensed Daryl was back from the clouded hazy edge he'd been on. "Yeah, he might just be eatin' this place out of food by the end of week, but yeah, my boy is good thanks to you."

"Weren't nothin'," mumbled Daryl.

"Daryl... Carl said you saved his life," Rick uttered in a completely sincere tone. Rick found Daryl's gaze and held it with the steel blue of his piercing eyes. "You were there when he needed you the most… when I couldn't be there."

"Said it weren't nothin'," answered Daryl honestly but shifted his gazes downward at the praise. Daryl knew he would have acted the same for just about anyone but he was grateful the pain it caused was for someone he cared about.

"It was, brother, it was." The words Rick spoke were so quiet but there was so much meaning behind them, a heaviness that made them hang between the two men.

The implication of the words drew Daryl's eyes back to Rick, questioning if he'd even heard him correctly.

"Yeah, you're my brother, Daryl. You and Beth will always be family to me, but you are my brother. You need anythin'… I mean anythin'… anytime, anywhere, you don't even need to ask. I'll be there."

Emotions were making it hard to swallow again. There was tightness in his chest that replaced the pain he'd been feeling. When Merle had died, Daryl wouldn't have admitted it to anyone but it was lonely knowing his family was truly gone. Every blood relation, for what they had been worth, was gone, his father, his mother, his uncles, his brother… he was alone.

Time with the original group on the road that first winter and at the prison had taught Daryl family wasn't always blood as the Dixon clan had always claimed. Family meant so much more. Family was someone who fought by your side against the odds. Family was people that searched for you when you were lost. Daryl found he had more family now than he'd ever had before the world went to shit. It was overwhelming at times.

"It's good to have you back," Daryl returned when he was finally able to speak again.

"It's good to be welcomed someplace. It's been hard out there," explained Rick with weariness in his voice.

Daryl nodded, understanding how hard life was in a world without fences and walls to protect you now. "We ain't been here long but we're tryin' to make it work."

With a quirk of his lip, Rick arched a brow at Daryl. "Long enough to find yourself a wife… but then again you didn't have to look that far, did you?"

Daryl shot a look to Rick, a lump catching in his throat. He thought he was beyond this now, hadn't he moved beyond caring who approved and who didn't of the relationship between Beth and him? All that mattered was her, he knew that. Still, he couldn't stop the apprehension of what his brother might be thinking of him.

His trepidation must have been apparent as Rick broke out into a full smile. "Daryl, you know you don't have to worry about what I'd have to say. I'm gonna admit to bein' surprised as hell… but then I saw her with you and the way you were just concerned about her. Ain't nothin' to explain. I'm happy for the both of you."

Daryl felt a wave of relief hit him followed by a wave of nausea, the room spinning more than he'd like to admit. "Not sure 'bout that," he mumbled and tried to hold the bitter taste at the back of his throat.

"You love her, don't you?" asked Rick.

"Of course," answered Daryl almost before the question left Rick's mouth. "Don't mean nothin' to some. Don't know if her… family would've too happy for her to end up with the likes of me. Don't really matter, though, cause I ain't givin' her up."

The smile was still on Rick's face but it was lessened and somewhat sadder. "Hershel would be happy for the both of you. You put the ring on her finger so you know it's not a one night thing… you're with her forever. There's an importance to a ring you put on the woman you love, one that makes you keep it on even if one of you are gone," Rick explained, rubbing his own worn band on his left hand. "Best marriage advice I can give you is don't ever forget why you put that ring on her and you'll be fine."

A sudden gasp came from behind them, drawing both men's attention to the Beth as she stood in the door way. The weary woman raced to the bedside, a million medical questions flying at them both. Instead of answering her, Daryl struggled to rise, feeling the need to show her he was fine rather than telling her. His attempt was plagued with horrible stabbing pain at his center along with being swarmed by dizziness. Rick was pushed aside by the smaller Beth.

"Daryl, please lie still. You can't be gettin' up just yet," said Beth, her gentle hands on his arm and shoulder trying to pause his movement.

"I can," he grumbled back.

Daryl hated feeling useless just as much as he hated being injured. A deep-seated need inside him ordered him to rise but try as he might his body just wasn't going to let him. He tried to roll up to the side but the pain just flared up worse, sending a clutching hand to his middle. There was fire in his stomach, burning him up from the inside. What the fuck?

"Daryl! Rick, I need Jess. If he's gonna be stubborn and not listen, we'll have to make him listen," she ordered as she tried to keep her patient in bed. "Don't do this, Daryl, lie back. You need rest."

Daryl growled lowly and grumbled. He knew when he was beat. Rick knew when he was beat too by the lopsided grin on Rick's face at the moment.

As Beth helped ease him back down, Daryl glared over at Rick. "What's the stupid smirk for?"

"Man, after more than a decade of marriage, the second best advice I can give you, Daryl, is that what the wife says, the husband does," Rick snickered as he turned to leave the room.

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 **A/N: Did you notice how wonderfully edited this chapter was? That's because I have a wonderful new BETA – cindisink – she's the best!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: New chapter and new problems for our little group. Michonne is going to take us through this chapter – can't let Rick have all the fun, now can we? This will continue to be mostly Beth and Daryl story but we will have little side steps such as this chapter to get us through. Hope everyone enjoys this once again beautifully edited chapter from my BETA – cindisink.**

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CHAPTER 6

Michonne finished the last of her breakfast meal and smiled. Apparently today was the one day each week this group saved the eggs for and everyone got a great breakfast. Michonne relished the taste of eggs, having missed them more than she had realized until they were on the tip of her tongue. It had been more than two years since she had last enjoyed her favorite breakfast food. There had been some robin's eggs she'd eaten raw that first summer but that didn't count. She'd been starving and those three eggs had barely been a drop in the bucket that had been her empty stomach.

It was her fifth morning waking up in an actual bed, one that was secured by walls and fences and other people to help defend it. This place had no more gas for the furnace anymore, but there were bodies and quilts and tons of yarn to keep it tolerable. When Michonne rose from bed this morning, there was a definite chill in the air but it was countered by her new snazzy purple knit cap. Paula had handed them all out immediately on their first morning here. No one was catching a cold on Paula's watch, not with a newborn in their midst.

The new baby, Isaac, was fussy this morning, whimpering and whining despite his mama's best efforts. Isaac was noisy but not full-throttle-at-the-top-of-his-lungs loud at least not at this moment. It was as if little Isaac knew death was waiting for him nearby if he was too loud. It was strange how babies knew…

Michonne watched Kayla sway the little guy in a dramatic arc of her arms while discussing her son with Jess. Both women looked exhausted. The new mother had obviously been having issues with her son sleeping at night and Jess had just gotten off watch. After days of caring for the worst patient in the world (aka Dixon), Beth and Jess had finally gone back in rotation. Rick, Michonne, and even Carl, had offered to take their spots but were turned down. Michonne had thought perhaps they were trying to get away from the grumpy, confined man, or at least Jess might have been.

Jess seemed very no nonsense and could handle Daryl better than most Michonne had seen. Apparently Dixon was a repeat customer of the paramedic, having had to bandage the man up more than once in the few months they'd been together. As much as Michonne knew Daryl hated being touched, he seemed comfortable with Beth and even this new woman assisting and helping him, begrudgingly at least.

Daryl's acceptance of touch had been a surprise to Michonne. She'd spent weeks with him, hunting the madman called The Governor, and she had never come even close to any kind of contact with the man. The two of them developed respect for one another and a good-humored comradery, but there was never anything close to that level of comfort. Perhaps they had both still been hurting too much from their losses of Andrea and Merle to develop anything beyond a mutual respect and passion for revenge.

Michonne had never discussed an exact plan with Daryl, but Rick had told them both to not bother bringing The Governor back for trial or anything; the man was a mad dog that needed to be put down. That had been good enough for Michonne, she only wished she'd been able to do it sooner… before he had attacked the second time.

Michonne had known a bolt to The Governor's brain or a slice of her sword was too little, too late for all the blood the man had spilled. He needed to suffer, to feel the same pain she'd built up inside of her for so long. She'd had this deep-seated need inside her to hunt the man down, to strike at him and make it hurt; she'd always felt coiled and ready to strike.

Daryl had carried around some of the same hulking pain but somehow, some way, he'd let it go before she'd been able to. Maybe it was because Daryl already had an established family back at the prison, he was needed there, he had a job to do and people to provide for.

It had taken some time but Rick had backed down from leading the group and others had stepped up, Carol, Daryl, Glenn and Hershel. They had been needed to oversee things while Rick went back to being in family mode. Michonne couldn't blame Rick; he had a newborn, just lost a wife and had gone a little mad. Hadn't she done the same when Andre died? Her _pets_ had been proof enough that she'd been a little off her rocker before Andrea had pulled her back. Rick had needed that time to heal too. Only Michonne was never exactly certain if he'd gotten all he needed.

She looked over at the man who was the main focus of her thoughts more often than not lately. There was no point in denying it anymore. Michonne knew she had a _thing_ for Rick. She wouldn't let herself give it a name yet or it would truly be too real. Even if she didn't name it, it was still there, fluttering around in her chest. Michonne found herself smiling at Rick more than she used to. It was hard not to, he was just too damn sexy even under all the dust and dirt of the wilds. There hadn't been time to act or even think about the attraction that had crept up on her. Now it seemed to be hanging there, always reminding her of him at the strangest moments.

Rick caught Michonne staring at him as his gaze flicked up to hers. His steel blue eyes locked with hers and made her take in a sharp breath. She could feel herself growing warmer from a blush, one she was hoping her darkened skin was hiding for her at the moment. Michonne couldn't stop the flushing feeling that followed. She was too old to be feeling this way. Okay, she wasn't dead or ancient by any means but the fact the man made her feel like a giddy teenager when he looked at her was beyond where she should be.

He continued to hold her gaze despite talking to several other people at breakfast as they planned the day. Michonne wanted to smile at him or nod or something but the look he was giving her was too intense. It was almost as if he could tell that she had been thinking about her attraction to him. It was sending a warm shiver down the center of her body.

Michonne didn't trust her own emotions to do anything but drop her gaze. Despite being almost certain his attraction was as mutual as her own budding feelings, Michonne wasn't sure she was ready to go there. Nor was she certain Rick was in a place to do that either especially with so much on his plate already. Ironically, it was one of the traits that drew Michonne to the man; his fervent instinct to protect and sacrifice himself for the others he cared for. Rick Grimes was a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and always would.

There was so much more at stake beyond a failed relationship between them , like Carl's response or if either of them was able to surviving losing someone again. Michonne wasn't sure she would be able to open herself up to that kind of loss again. But deep down, she knew that to live, to really live, she was going to have to answer that question of if she could or couldn't. Could she put herself out there again? Wasn't she already doing that? Rick and Carl were already her family; losing one would be like losing a limb at this point. Still, kissing Rick would always be so much more than just a simple kiss.

Even if Michonne wasn't sure if she could cross that line, seeing that Beth and Daryl did amazed her. She'd talked more with Beth already than Daryl, who was still a grumbling bear held in the back room. Michonne had seen them together, so she got it. She thought she understood the connection but there was still a small part in her that knew those two were a mystery to her. They might always be and honestly, that was none of her business since no one was getting hurt and everyone was happy. Beth and Daryl, somehow they had been able to make that leap from friends to family and then to so much more. A leap that scared the shit out of Michonne.

Michonne drew in a deep breath at the realization of her fear as she sat alone at the end of the table. Carl had already gone to begin his tasks for the day. Although he was close to the same age as Tina, the teenagers were miles apart in their abilities. The new group thought it best to not include Carl in many of the more dangerous responsibilities here. Even if Rick and Michonne thought it was a good idea too, Carl was beyond being a boy anymore, a hard fact of the life they had lived for the past year. Both Carl and Tina had sat with her that morning; Tina seemed a little enamored with Carl, who was soaking it up. Neither had been around others their own age in such a long time.

Carl and Tina were off to do chores, and Michonne was to catch up with them a little later for morning training for Tina. Beth had been training the young woman despite the reservations of her older brother, Tigo. Tina still needed to learn, fences and walls didn't last; they all knew that. It was only a matter of time and Tina needed to be prepared.

Michonne had been surprised to know Tina was under the tutelage of the younger Greene girl. It was good of Beth to have insisted on the training for Tina, their group hadn't thought that for Beth back at the prison. She'd been lucky and brave enough to survive with Daryl for the past year. Michonne could tell Beth was different now, not the delicate girl behind the fences with a baby on her hip. Here, Beth seemed to be a leader of sorts, a fierce protector and hunter with Daryl from the sounds of the inhabitants. Michonne hadn't exactly seen her in action yet so it was hard to get her head around the idea but she also realized it shouldn't be. Beth had Greene blood in her, the fierce fire that Hershel and Maggie had in them. Apparently it just needed to be lit and given a chance to rage and burn.

Michonne realized she had spent enough time in her own head; more was never a good idea. She figured it was about time to rise and bring her empty plate to the kitchen when Roslyn walked up alongside the table next to her. Michonne arched her brow at the older, odd woman.

Roslyn was thin framed but wiry, apparently a stark difference from her arrival that earlier summer day. Upon their arrival, Rick and Michonne had been given a rundown of all the people here along with their abilities and roles. This Roslyn was the only one in the group that everyone seemed to give pause when discussing. The woman had been loud and a thorn in the beginning but her behavior had since quickly and strangely migrated to oddly quiet yet devoted. Roslyn mostly kept to herself, praying in her free time, and working hard when necessary. Roslyn caused no real trouble beyond a few off handed slights that would offend but didn't seem entirely on purpose. The woman just seemed a bit off to Michonne with her stringy salt and peppered hair and her deep set green eyes that darted back and forth when she thought no one was looking.

Michonne hadn't talked to Roslyn yet beyond a quick greeting upon first meeting. However, this group was small and interaction with everyone was guaranteed at some point. Still, when Roslyn walked up by her, Michonne felt herself on instant alert.

"That poor babe," said Roslyn, her thin hands wringing in front of her. Although, she stood next to Michonne, her sharp eyes were focused forward on the whimpering infant between Kayla and Jess.

Michonne nodded in agreement, uncertain why the woman decided to stop and speak with her.

Roslyn looked over and down at Michonne. "Fourth day of fussing. Poor Isaac is keeping his mama up all night. Jess is trying to help, I can see that, but she's not a mother."

Michonne arched a brow up at Roslyn. She had no idea if Jess was or wasn't; Michonne didn't see how that mattered.

"You are though," alleged Roslyn.

Michonne was visibly taken aback and unsure of what to say. She had only told one person in the world about her son, only one other soul knew of Andre. It wasn't a secret, but she knew Carl wouldn't blab, especially to these new people.

Roslyn smiled softly at her. "I can tell. Once a mother, always a mother. It's the same way I look at the babe… with longing and sorrow."

Michonne blinked back at Roslyn. She hadn't realized she'd done that. Seeing another baby was hard, despite the wonder of the little guy actually being alive in this world. Her own lost child was enough to deal with and the fresh loss of Judith only compounded it. The little boy was beautiful and amazing and utterly terrifying. Michonne swallowed hard at the swell of emotions. She was stoic by nature, how had this woman read her so quickly and accurately?

Roslyn sighed heavily, the frown on her face heavily lining it. "I won't ask so don't worry. Mine aren't here with me either. They are all older, but I miss the baby stage, I always loved it. I would have had more if God had decided to grace me with some but I got my five children and I was happy. One is dead… Elijah." The older woman's face scrunched when she said her son's name, obviously pained. "I know that… I was told that. The rest… are lost or missing or searching… I pray. I pray so much and so hard that I know they will come home. I know it."

"It doesn't hurt to have hope," Michonne responded, surprising even herself. She knew it was true; they'd looked and hoped and eventually found Daryl and Beth. It wasn't everyone from their family, but it was something.

"I don't hope. I pray and I know my children will come back under my fold and God's protection," Roslyn spoke quietly but fiercely with a belief held so dearly and close to her heart.

It was obvious no one was allowed to touch that certainty so Michonne merely nodded in agreement, no point in making a fuss.

"That's why I know you can see what that little babe needs the same as me," said Roslyn, her eyes back on the fussing infant.

"And what is that?" questioned Michonne, feeling on edge but not exactly understanding why. The woman rubbed her the wrong way, just as Beth had explained.

"The child needs the Lord," Roslyn stated proudly and then smiled, "and some peppermint. He's got a tummy issue and that'll help settle him down. Little man might be colicky and that always did the trick with my boys. I know I can provide both." Roslyn gave a quirk of her lips and strode over to the two women without another word.

Michonne shook off the strange encounter as just that, a strange woman with strange words. She didn't want to think on the little boy anymore and she didn't want to turn and see Rick. He'd see she was upset and would want to know why and what the woman had said to her. He was protective like that, overly so of his family sometimes. He wanted to fix everything, a good quality in him but something she didn't want to address right at the moment. Instead, Michonne scooped up her plate and headed with her head down to the kitchen to return it.

Marie was in the kitchen, placing the last meal of eggs onto a plate. "Oh, Michonne, great. Can you help me?"

"Sure," she responded, setting her dirty plate down next to Vinny, who was starting to clean all the dirty dishes. The young man was nice, quiet and dutiful. He also seemed to have a giant crush on Marie, who was apparently oblivious to it all.

"Can you bring Daryl his breakfast? Jess is taken with Isaac right now. I know Beth covered the early night shift so she's not quite up yet."

The watch here was broken down into four shifts that changed on the six and twelve. Everyone but Roslyn, Kayla and the children took shifts. Even Marie had recently been added after some intensive rifle training. Michonne and Rick were about to be thrown into the mix with some debate over Carl joining after he was properly rested.

Beth had been exhausted, days and nights of caring for the grizzly bear back there, especially those first twenty-four hours when he had been at his worst and worried her silly. Beth had finally taken her spot back on the rotation against the advisement of a few who had offered to take it from her. Michonne didn't know if Beth felt the need to give back or prove herself further or it was just the fact that everyone pulled their own weight here, but Beth had been on watch last night.

"Absolutely," answered Michonne, taking the plate from Marie's hands.

"I'd do it, but I'm behind already and need to get the wash going. It's wonderful wash day. Plus, well, I don't want to be the one to wake him…"

Michonne laughed, knowing the woman was a little fearful of Dixon language. Marie must have been around him long enough to know Daryl's roughness but not enough to know Daryl was all bark and no real bite. "So I get to be the one to poke the sleeping bear?" she chuckled.

Marie shuddered a little. "I can if you…"

"Nah, the man's my friend. I can deal with him better than most. He just makes the worst patient."

Daryl was still being kept down the hall in the infirmary. At Beth's and Jess's insistence, he slept in the cot down there despite Daryl's eagerness to return upstairs to his own bed. A heavy dizziness had been there for the first few days before yesterday when it finally dissipated enough for him to walk around the hallway a bit unaided. Along with the sore knee he had and the torn abdominal muscles, everyone agreed there was no reason to push and rush him upstairs. Beth had been staying down there next to him on the floor since the cot wasn't big enough for both of them, adding another reason for the little rest she'd been getting. Michonne hated to wake Beth and hoped the younger woman was upstairs resting, hopefully by herself and hadn't woken Daryl last night. Daryl had been very forceful in wanting his wife to return to an actual bed and not sleep on the floor like a dog.

Michonne walked down the hallway, the food covered by another plate to keep the heat in. Eggs were a treat but no one liked cold eggs.

As she rounded the door frame, Michonne instantly knew no one was in the room. Beth's blanket was still folded in its place from yesterday, which meant she'd listened and spent the night upstairs. Beth had been so tired which is probably the only reason she wasn't up checking on Daryl already. Not only was Beth not there, but neither was Daryl. The group would have seen him if he went to the bathroom or anywhere else on the main floor. That only left two options: upstairs or outside.

Michonne set the plate down and went back to the hallway. She needed to find out if the man had been foolish enough to climb the stairs in his condition to be with his wife, but a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention as she was leaving the room. Just outside the backdoor she'd seen a figure. Instinctively, her hand went to the katana at her back. This place was safe but everyone still cared their weapons, it would be crazy not to. Even the original people at the farm knew fences weren't prefect, they had already fallen once.

There was no more movement behind the frosted glass as Michonne stalked towards the back door. She looked out and saw a dark, hunched figure to the side breathing out a puff of air… no wait, it was smoke. Michonne had found the missing Dixon.

Michonne pushed the door open; it creaked in the frosty morning air. "What are you doing out here, Daryl?" She slid her sword back in its place.

Daryl had an oversized black jacket on, the one Sherri left by the back door with her smokes in the front pocket, and the hood was pulled up over his head. He was seated in a green deck chair, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and a protective arm around his sore middle. The hood and his longer hair hung in his face from being hunched over, hiding almost all of it but just the grizzled fuzz on his chin so Michonne knew it was him.

"Fuck, can't a man get a moment of peace in this world," Daryl grumbled before he drew a slow drag from his cigarette.

"You're lucky it was me that found you. Beth and Jess would have read you the riot act about getting out of bed without any help and then to find you outside and smoking to boot. Hell, mister, you might just have death wish," she retorted, giving him a disapproving eye.

Daryl huffed and smirked but said nothing. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew out the smoke slowly, seemingly savoring it.

"Brought you some breakfast. Eggs today," Michonne informed him, her body giving a little shiver from the chilled air.

She knew she should let him be, enjoy a few moments to be normal and not like an injured person. She knew he hated being cooped up, feeling useless while being hurt. She sure did when it had happened to her. It had been the same for her when his brother had shot her and she'd been forced to spend time with Judith at the prison.

Still, Michonne knew Daryl was nowhere near one hundred percent. Any time alone outside wasn't something he required at the moment for his actual healing. It was cold and windy and not good for him. Winter had howled its way in the day before.

"Ain't hungry," he muttered, almost too low for her to hear.

"Not even for eggs? Must be gettin' soft. The Dixon I knew wouldn't turn down food… even squirrel," she quipped.

Daryl snorted, smoking again but said nothing. Daryl had always been quiet, but in this moment he was downright shut down. It was a little different from what she remembered of him or maybe she just wasn't used to the new him. He shivered in his seat violently, releasing a hiss of pain.

Michonne sighed and saw the cigarette was at least half done. He'd had his fun so it was time to get him in before the other women found him. "C'mon, your wife will have your head for being out here, smokin' no less."

"Woman's always bossin' me around now that she's got a ring on me. Eat my veggies, don't get eaten by walkers, come back alive. Won't let me rest," Daryl rasped out, his voice low and in a dry joking tone.

Michonne huffed and rolled her eyes. The man was asking for it, someone had to wrangle that wild man in. Beth seemed to be just the one to tame him, although one wouldn't have thought that to look at the two of them back at the prison. So opposite in so many ways, but maybe that's why it worked, the pair of them completed each other. Still as Michonne thought back to a year ago, none of their relationship seemed possible. Even with just Dixon, another half had never even been an option let alone with Beth Greene… oops, it was Dixon now, Michonne knew she'd have to start remembering that.

Michonne eyed Daryl carefully. "Never took you for the marrying type, Dixon," she said, giving voice to her thoughts.

Daryl shrugged, his cigarette hanging precariously from his lip with a bright orange end. "I didn't either," he mumbled his reply. "Until I was." He coughed deeply, hacking and groaning as he bent further over.

Michonne took a knee by him. She grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and rubbed it out into the ground. Looking him over carefully, Michonne saw him fully for the first time as she pulled back his hood. Daryl was so pale, his whiteness a stark contrast to the dark purple under his eyes. Beads of sweat were gathered on his forehead above his painfully shut eyes.

"Daryl?"

He reached a shaky hand up and pulled the hood back over his head. "Just cold," Daryl muttered hoarsely.

Daryl went to push up from his chair, but Michonne put a strong and staying hand over his. This wasn't right; all her signals were going off and confirmed when she touched him. His hand was hot, burning hot. Michonne flipped his hood back off with a quick hand going to his forehead. The man was boiling alive, his skin sweltering dangerously under her touch.

"Daryl, you aren't cold. You're roasting," Michonne gasped.

Beth had been on watch after dinner last night, and then Jess had been on after that. Michonne was guessing it had been eight to ten hours, maybe longer since anyone had touched Daryl. He was burning up from some infection; something strong had hit him hard.

He slumped down in the chair, his body shivering again and his eyes closing. "I'm cold, Michonne. I thought… I thought I needed some air. And then I was hot and then I was cold and needed air. The shakin' is just from needin' a drag. Now… fuck, I'm just so tired."

She was certain the damn, stupid man hadn't been feeling good yesterday but failed to tell anyone. "You need to get inside," Michonne said but got no response, his eyes staying closed.

"Daryl?" she asked, trying to get a response as she shook his arm.

A few mumblings came from the shaking man, but his eyes remained closed. This had gotten so much worse, so quickly.

Michonne rose and whipped open the back door. "RICK! JESS! I NEED YOU OUTSIDE NOW!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. She looked back at Daryl as he startled from her noise but still didn't open his eyes. She turned back and yelled, "AND SOMEONE WAKE BETH!"

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 **A/N: Also wanted to thank everyone for the kind wishes with my foot! It's a bit worse off than originally thought so a few more weeks with a giant boot and classy walking cane. Perfect for the nice hot summer weather! I know now I certainly would not survive the zombie apocalypse with all my aliments. I'm kind of on par with poor Daryl in my stories.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Wow everyone! I loved all the reviews to the last chapter. I'm glad everyone is enjoying the different POVs. I can't promise more from either Rick or Michonne, but I can promise more from a few other characters… perhaps ones a few of you are waiting to see if they turn up *wink*wink***

 **Poor Daryl. Let's see what other horrible things I can do to him in this chapter - just kidding... well, at least a little bit. You know I love the angst.**

 **Hope everyone enjoys the new chapter. Once again, it has been beautifully edited by cindisink – she does awesome work! L** **et me know what you think - Review for me please.**

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CHAPTER 7

Beth's eyes popped open suddenly. She wasn't completely sure but she thought she'd heard shouting. It was morning; grey light was filtering into her room. The winter sun was peaking over the horizon which meant she'd overslept. Beth knew she had been tired and apparently so had everyone else who had tried to talk her out of doing watch last night. Even Daryl had been overly forceful in making sure she got some decent sleep and for her to not lie down on the floor like a dog (his words not her's).

"AND SOMEONE WAKE BETH!"

Beth instantly knew that it was Michonne calling for her, knowing she had heard right before and there had been shouting. Those words were enough to have Beth bolting from bed. She had a tank top on and a pair of pale blue fleece bottoms with little kittens on them. They were loose fitting, barely hanging on her hips even after she cinched them tight. Daryl loved them on her, often murmuring about loving her little pussy pants, would make her blush from top to bottom.

She grabbed her grey hoodie by the door and threw it on. Beth was shoving her feet into her boots when her door was thrown open. Marie stood in the door frame and the expression her face didn't look promising.

Beth rose to follow her, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. There were only two real options. It was either the baby or Daryl; neither was a good choice.

"Daryl?" Beth asked in a quiet rush but somehow she already knew the answer. She just knew.

Marie nodded as she started to lead the way. "They want your help."

Beth raced down the stairs behind Marie, not getting any more of an explanation. Even in the short distance down the stairs and into the infirmary, Beth's mind exploded with a hundred drastic possibilities. But first and foremost, she knew she wasn't going to lose Daryl. He'd promised he wasn't going to leave her.

Marie stepped aside and allowed Beth to rush into the room. The small infirmary was filled with people. Rick and Michonne struggled with Daryl, laying him back into bed. Jess hovered just to the side with her stethoscope in her hand. Sherri, looking just as worried as the rest, stood against the back wall with a black hoodie in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked as she rushed to Daryl's side.

Jess shot a look back at Beth, her face grim. "He's got a fever. He's hot, really hot. He's not fully conscious either. We can't get him to talk properly, just some mumblin'."

Rick and Michonne stepped back, allowing Beth to come forward and place her cool hand to his burning forehead. Beth winced at the hot skin beneath her touch as if it was searing her. Daryl grumbled against her touch, his blue eyes barely open slits. Beth couldn't tell if he knew she was there or not, which actually scared her more than the heat against her palm.

"Fever means infection. He doesn't have any issues with his lungs or coughing or sneezing. This isn't viral as far as I can tell," Jess explained to Beth as she pulled the bandage off his head. "We need to find the infection."

The stitches at Daryl's hairline looked gnarly, but there was no sign of infection in the tight, healing skin. Jess lifted Daryl's t-shirt next while Beth pulled back the larger white gauze patch there. The wound there was smaller but showed more signs they were looking for. The edges were flared pink but not as bad as it should be with the raging fever he was presenting with.

"Shit," Jess hissed, motioning for Beth to cover the wound back up. "It has to be internal. I thought maybe we should've left it open. The damn thing was a puncture… we should have had drainage but fuck, I don't know about that stuff. I just tagged 'em and bagged 'em and let the doctors take 'em. _SHIT_."

"It's not your fault," Beth replied. "I didn't know to do that either. My father might have but I never got to that lesson. So it's just you and me, we can do this. What do we need to do?" Beth pressed a cool hand to his hand, giving Daryl a small squeeze to let him know she was there for him.

Daryl's eyes fluttered open. "Beth?"

Beth lowered, closer to her husband's face. "Here, Daryl, I'm here."

His hand squeezed down her hand. "Beth… I need to find Beth," he mumbled, his words almost mushed together.

Worry pinched the edges of her mouth even as she tried to smile down at Daryl. "It's okay, I'm here…"

"He might have blood poisoning, he might have some infection inside we can't see. Either way, Daryl needs antibiotics," said Jess, her hands rubbing at her face.

"We got a ton of that shit right here," Sherri pointed out, reaching for the bottles on the shelf.

Rick furrowed his brow as he shot a look at Jess. "Why wasn't he on it before?"

"They only took Amoxicillin and Penicillin when they loaded up what they could from the pharmacy or at least that's all I could find when I inventoried. Paula said they tried to go back and get more but by then it was bad out there and being looted so they didn't risk it. The group here had figured it was good enough," explained Jess as she seemed to ignore the bottle being offered to her and instead grabbing a thermometer from a drawer.

"Sure looks like it is," said Michonne, looking at the bottle in Sherri's hand.

Beth soothed Daryl's hair back from his brow as she watched Jess place the probe in his ear. "Daryl is allergic to those kinds," explained Beth, looking over to her friends. "Found that out when he hurt himself at our farm. Daddy had to give him a different kind, some left over from treatin' Carl and T-Dog. We barely had enough and it was the only way we got 'im to stay in bed for a few days before he took off."

"Fuck. It's 104.4. Shit. We need to cool him down and now," said Jess tensely. "I can't do this again…"

"Yes, you can, Jess," Beth returned calmly, she needed Jess to calm down.

Jess shook her head. "Not like that. I mean, I can't lose another woman's husband. I can't," she answered with sad eyes.

"What do we need to do?" injected Rick gruffly.

"We need meds," replied Jess quickly, her mind back on track.

"The pharmacy is mostly gone. There was a fire in the area last winter but we can go check. The area ain't the safest either… lots of bad people around there," offered Sherri.

"Si, that's a bad part of town," agreed Tigo.

Beth looked over to the doorway. Her attention had been focused solely on Daryl, and she hadn't noticed the arrival of others. Tigo and Paula were huddled just inside the doorway with Marie just behind them still after delivering Beth. The room was starting to fill up fast with concerned members of the group.

Jess grabbed a bottle and popped out a couple of pills. "Tylenol will have to do for now." She handed them to Beth along with the bottle of water by his cot.

Beth lifted Daryl's head carefully, pressing the pills to his lips. Fortunately, he took them easily and then she gave him some of the water to wash them down. His blue eyes opened and seemed to see her for the first time as he swallowed them. His eyes almost looked apologetic as if he was sorry for worrying her again.

"We need ice packs," continued Jess, rambling off her ideas as they came. "I don't know if we have any in the freezer. If we don't, we need to make some and lots. Now."

"I can do that," offered Marie before disappearing down the hallway.

Jess looked down at Daryl with a frown on her face. "He got this sick, this fast…. The codeine we were giving him for the pain has acetaminophen in it. It was probably masking the fever and the infection. Dumb shit stopped taking them yesterday trying to be a tough guy and didn't want to admit he wasn't feeling good. Daryl's gonna need antibiotics. He needs them today."

Rick turned his attention from Daryl to the people in the doorway. "Where can we go?"

When there was no immediate answer from the group, just a few blank stares and shaking heads, Beth felt her stomach churn. Daryl was sick, so very sick and burning alive in front of her. She'd never felt so helpless, not even the same feeling she had while she watched two men beat him in the woods in the not so distant past. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes, still holding his hand tightly in hers. What would her father do?

The idea popped in her head, her eyes opening wide. "What about animal meds? A vet clinic or something? Paula, what's in the area that might not be picked over?" Beth asked, internally begging the heavens to have something… anything…

Paula brought a hand to her chin, a worried but thoughtful expression on her face. "McCallister's horse farm. That's off the path… they might have somethin' but I don't know. We went there in the beginnin' but haven't been back. We took the food but didn't think to check her stable area for some meds. Margie McCallister used to take care of a lot of that stuff herself when she could… saved 'em money."

Beth nodded, nipping at her lower lip. "Okay, that's a start. Anything else?" She was desperate, she needed Daryl to be okay and a search of stable wasn't going to cover it in her book.

Paula's green eyes lit up. "Oh, wait, the emergency vet clinic. They'd just put that in at the beginnin' of the year, just before the world went haywire. I remember thinkin' it wasn't gonna last 'cause it was too rural out here, folks just didn't really need that since we had our old fashioned vets all already that could be called in the middle of the night. It was makin' it though, or so I heard. It's in Alderville, in between a convenience store which was really just a damn liquor store that sold bread and milk in the front case and one of those dollar type stores filled with useless stuff like balloons and baskets and holiday cards." Paula caught her rambling and gave a reassuring smile to the concerned Beth. "Yes, dearie, that's probably your best bet. It was newer so maybe it wasn't hit hard. Alderville isn't too far away and real small. This place is about a mile 'fore the town. Tryin' to expand ya know, urban sprawl and all."

"I'll go," offered Rick in a clipped tone. "We need a map."

Paula gave a beckoning wave. "Follow me. I can show you on our map in the dining room." Without being asked, Michonne, Sherri and Tigo followed the pair, leaving Jess and Beth finally alone in the room.

Jess went to the sink in the corner of the room, wetting a towel. Beth lowered herself to sit by Daryl on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots and socks off. Both women knew they needed to get the man's temperature down quickly. Jess wrung out the towel before she handed it to Beth. Carefully, Beth applied the damp, cool cloth to Daryl head. He grumbled and weakly tried to shake it off but Beth kept it in place. He really was the worst patient ever.

"If the meds and ice don't work in the next twenty minutes, we might need to take up 'im up the showers," considered Jess, frowning as she looked down at Daryl. "I don't want him to seizure or fry his brain."

"I can help with that," replied Beth, moving the cloth to Daryl's cheeks and pressing the coolness there.

Jess shook her head. "No. One of us is gonna have to go with them, Beth." With a serious look, Jess placed her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry… but I'm gonna be better at this and you know more veterinary information than I do."

Beth swallowed hard and looked from Daryl to Jess; she didn't want to leave him. "Just barely…" Daryl needed her; she felt his hold tighten on her other hand again.

Jess let out a shaky sigh. "I know, Beth, I know. But one of us has got to do this. I can go if you really want me to. We need someone familiar with meds and names so they don't come back with dewormer or something. I think it should be you."

Beth had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to not shout back no. She wanted to argue, to stave off the swelling feeling of fear in her chest but she knew better. She knew she was the better choice for Daryl to survive. She didn't look up at Jess, continued to dampen Daryl's face, and gave the slightest nod. She'd go for him; she could do that for him.

"I'm sorry, Beth, I am," offered Jess softly. "He'll be okay; he needs this more than he needs you to be holding his hand right now. I need you looking for any antibiotic that doesn't end in –illin. Anything… we'll figure it out after that."

Daryl gave a sharp shake of his head. "Beth… she can't go. She's gotta… no, the baby needs to be safe."

"Isaac is safe, Daryl. It's okay," Jess reassured.

Daryl ground his face to the side to train his unfocused eyes on Jess. "Not that baby. Beth… she can't go if she's pregnant. She needs to stay," he whispered in tired, huffing breaths.

Jess jerked her head back and shot a questioning look over to Beth. "Beth? What is he talking about?"

Beth was genuinely confused as she pressed the wet cloth to his cheek and forced him back into a laying position. "Rest," she murmured softly to Daryl. "I'm safe." She wasn't sure what Daryl was talking about and was more concerned about his fever than before.

"Ya can't leave if there's a baby, Beth. You can't. Gotta keep you safe. Gotta live. Can't lose you, Beth. Not for nothin', not for no baby," Daryl rambled in mutters between shallow, rapid breaths. His eyes fluttered, fighting the weariness that was trying to consume him.

Beth knew Daryl would worry too much at times, losing himself in his own mind over the possibilities of dangers. He had a history of trying to keep anything bad from her all the time. She knew she wasn't pregnant… right? They'd always been safe with the exception of that one time. And sure, the methods they used now weren't exactly fail-safe…but she wasn't pregnant. Okay, so she was a little late, but that happened to her all the time, even before the world turned disastrous. Beth had been fairly regular the last few months since arriving here but that didn't mean anything… did it? No, Beth shook her head. She would know… women knew… right?

"Beth?" Jess questioned again, looking down at her with eyebrows raised.

"No, Jess. I don't think I am," Beth answered with certainty.

Jess put her arms out wide before her. "Think? Beth that's not – "

Beth stopped her friend before she could start with staying hand. "We don't have time to discuss. Just know that I don't think I am and leave it there. He's got a fever… he doesn't know what he's sayin'."

Jess opened her mouth but stopped herself before any words left her; instead she simply nodded in agreement. "Go then. Send someone back to help me, in case I need to move him."

Beth lowered her lips softly to his burning forehead and pressed a soft kiss there. "Keep your promise. Don't leave," she whispered softly enough just for him to hear.

"Don't go," he breathed.

Beth rose and gave his hand one last squeeze before letting it go. "I'll be back." It pained her, physically causing a knot in the center of her stomach, but she knew she had to. She whisked herself away as fast as she could, ignoring the pull that wanted her back at his side.

Wasting no time, Beth rushed down the hallway to the dining area. She found Marie darting down the hallway, back towards the infirmary. Marie had two white packs in her hands.

"Look, we still had the two from your ankle in there," Marie said, holding them up for Beth to see.

"Great, go bring them to Jess," said Beth as she rushed by. "I have to go with them."

Marie didn't question her but gave her a strange look as they brushed by each other in the hallway. There isn't time to explain. The quicker Beth left, the sooner she would be back with Daryl. And she wanted to be back with him.

When Beth entered the dining area, she saw the group standing around the map Paula had offered to show them.

Rick pointed to a location. "We should be able to use this road. Tigo, you said it was clear of cars?"

"Well, up to here, I know it's passable. Beyond that, the last three miles or so… we don't know. We ain't been that way before."

Rick nodded carefully, considering the information before he asked, "And this is where you last encountered that large herd?"

"Yeah, here in Chandler," answered Tigo.

"Okay, let's hope they drifted this way and not towards us or here," Rick said with a motion of his hand over the map. "We need to get moving. Daryl needs those meds as fast as we can get them."

Not sure if they noticed her arrival or not, Beth spoke loudly from behind them, "I'll get my bow and gun and better pants. Give me two minutes and I'll be down."

Rick and Michonne exchanged a meaningful look with sly glances before turning around with everyone else to look at Beth.

Sherri placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We got this covered, girl. Go be with yer man."

"It's not what he needs right now. He needs me to get those meds. Jess and I talked. One of us needs to go with and I'm the one more familiar with veterinary clinics and she can manage his fever better, especially if it gets worse. I'm going," Beth replied with a fierceness that wasn't what she felt deep inside.

Rick gave a firm shake of his head. "No, Beth. Michonne and I'll be going. You can stay."

Tigo gave a curt nod of agreement. "Me too."

"Ain't leavin' me behind," snorted Sherri.

Beth considered all four carefully, grateful so many would jump to Daryl's aid without hesitation. It gave her a slight pause as her emotions, ones she had worked so hard to keep at bay, well up in her throat, making it hard to swallow. Family is what you made it, and Beth was so glad these people were her family.

"I'm going," Beth stated with a firm look in her eyes. "I don't need four of you with me. Two should do just fine."

"There's no need for… for someone like you to go out there, Beth. It's too dangerous and there could be a lot of walkers. It's best if you stay here," Rick replied with a certain amount of gentleness in his tone.

"Rick, I can handle myself. We don't have time –"

"Exactly," injected Michonne. "We won't have time to watch you and search at the same time. We need someone more seasoned, Beth. If you could just tell us what to look for, we can find it. I'm certain."

Beth opened her mouth to argue vehemently but Sherri's staying hand stopped her. The large red headed woman looked from Beth to Rick and Michonne. "I thought ya said these people were yer family, that they knew ya?"

Rick's ice blue eyes narrowed on Sherri. "What's this about?"

"Beth, _compradre_. You don't fuck with Daryl and you'd better not fuck with Beth," replied Tigo with a nod to Beth. "Ask Sherri, Beth can handle her shit."

Sherri let out a deep belly chuckle. "Hell's bells, that's right. First day this little pixie shit held a damn blade to my throat 'causin' she thought I was gonna be takin' something of hers."

Michonne looked curiously at Beth. "What was that?"

"Daryl," answered Beth, unable to keep the small smirk from sliding into place on her face.

"Hell, you guys, Beth woulda been with Daryl that day he fell if she hadn't twisted her ankle last week. I don't know who she was to you before, but this here Beth is one of the best we got. Apparently you haven't seen her with her bow. She's a fuckin' force," stated Tigo. "If she needs to go, then she needs to go."

"You sure your ankle is up to it," questioned Rick. It was written all over his face when he looked at her that he didn't completely believe the statements being said about her. Beth could understand that, she's just been a babysitter before. A year with Daryl had changed her in more ways than one.

Beth nodded; her ankle wasn't exactly one hundred percent but close. She knew she was going. She was Daryl's best hope.

"I can stay back," offered Michonne.

Rick looked over to Michonne, nodding. "I'm going. I owe Daryl that."

"Me too," said Tigo and Sherri in strange unison.

"You stay," argued Sherri with a snip. "Yer little feller is cryin' up a storm. Needs ya here."

Tigo growled under his breath. "I gotta debt to pay to the man, too."

Beth knew Tigo was thinking about the last run he'd gone one with Daryl, the one where they had left him behind. "Daryl's not like that. You don't owe him," returned Beth.

"Don't matter. I have a debt to pay to that man. I fuckin' left him behind. Wasn't right," retorted Tigo with a bite that was completely directed back at himself.

Sherri slapped Tigo on the back. "Next one, _amigo_. I'm fuckin' goin' and takin' care of my Double D. Get your shit, Beth. Let's go get the Jeep ready, Ranger Rick."

Beth did her best to keep from smiling at the comment and the uncertain look on Rick's face. "She was a friend of Daryl's and Merle's… from before.

"Figures," groaned Rick as he turned to follow Sherri.

 **################################**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry for such a long delay. I knew work was going to be too much and it was. Add in coaching competitive soccer and buying a travel trailer that brings me to the wilderness each weekend (no wifi, no computer)… there just wasn't time for this. I hope all of you can forgive me for abandoning you for half the summer. I feel bad I left you in a bad place as well – poor Daryl is struggling for life and Beth desperate to save him. Let's not delay anymore. Let's get to the story – Enjoy!**

 **################################**

CHAPTER 8

Every moment counted, every second that she wasn't moving was wasted. Beth didn't want to be away from Daryl any longer than she needed to be. The sooner she left, the sooner she'd be back to him with the medicine he needed. She refused to think about losing him.

Her mind briefly flashed over everything they had been through together. The endless days of hunger, the men fighting against them for their lives, the walkers chomping hungrily at their flesh. For some reason, this situation was worse, it was harder. She didn't know how to fight against tiny bacteria deep inside the man she loved. Still, Beth was going to, she was going to fight with everything she had to get what Daryl needed.

All of those thoughts swirled inside Beth as she slammed into the appropriate gear before rushing back downstairs. She flew out the door, seeing Sherri bringing the Jeep up. Rick was already climbing in. Beth had rushed past everyone in a blur. She couldn't stop, not for one second. If she gave herself that time to think, to breathe, then she would go check on her husband and she wouldn't leave. She would take his hand and hold on to it and not let go. She couldn't do that. She needed to be strong.

Beth was in such a rush she wasn't even mad when Sherri set the Jeep into motion before Beth even had a chance to close the door behind her as she climbed into the back seat. The front was already taken by Rick. That didn't irk her either that he was there. Beth and Sherri knew the area the best, but Beth also knew Rick. He was a leader by nature, take-charge-of-a-situation man, a passion that drove him. Both he and Sherri were genuinely concerned for Daryl. It was good to have them with her.

The gates were open and ready for them to speed out, Nate standing by and ready to close them as soon as they rushed by. It seemed the entire farm had a sense of urgency. Beth wasn't sure if she was grateful or uneasy about that. She was warmed that everyone cared as much as she did, but it concerned her that everyone else was just as worried as she was. The world was so much more dangerous than before. A little infection that would have been easily taken care of in the world could easily be your death now.

"Buck up and hang on, we ain't goin' the easy way," barked Sherri as she curved dangerously fast onto the highway.

The map seated next to her tumbled onto the floor at the sharp turn. Beth grabbed hold of the roll bar and tightly held herself from going up against the window. Rick was unable to catch himself before his head clinked hard against the glass.

His glaring blue eyes trained on the tall read head as he righted himself. "You know where we are going?"

"Sure as shit," Sherri replied, swearing around an overturned car.

Rick was able to stop himself from careening as before. "It'd be nice if we got there in one piece," he growled.

Sherri responded in not-so-kind words with Rick spouting off another retort. Beth didn't let the spat get to her. No, she needed to focus. She needed to think, to remember. She needed to find antibiotics that weren't penicillin based, no amoxicillin, and no ampicillin.

Beth closed her eyes. She forced herself to try and remember. The jumbling and bumping of the Jeep didn't help but Beth wasn't about to complain. She needed to concentrate. If she did, she could almost hear her father's voice. She could almost remember the words he spoke the medical terminology.

Beth had been seventeen when she had last been on the farm. She had been helping her daddy with his practice for a few summers by then. She would tag along a few times each week to visit the neighbors, see other farm animals and occasionally help her father out.

It made her mouth dry trying to remember, mouthing soundless words trying to get them to have meaning to her. _Doxycycline_. That word kept popping up in her head, repeating in the low humble voice of her father. She knew that had been an antibiotic, one that didn't end in _–illin_ like Jess had instructed her to find.

Beth loved her father, missed him dearly. She loved all her family, gone and missing, but thinking about them and remembering them at times was hard. Especially in a situation like this, forcing herself to remember, forcing the memories to the front, the good came with the bad. She would do it, she would remember it all for Daryl. He needed her. She needed to do this.

 _Gentamicin._ That was injectable, Beth remembered that. She remembered holding the calves, holding them tight against her while her father had given them doses when needed. She remembered their soft newborn fur curled at the ends, their wide frightened eyes and their soft bleatings for their mothers. Another antibiotic, she was sure of it.

Two… that was two Beth could think of. Another name popped into her mind. _Baytril._ It was a brand name she thought, she couldn't remember the medical name. She needed to be sure to find it… it was just so much to remember, so much that she couldn't.

It took a long time to reach their destination. Longer than Beth had hoped it would take. A detour had been needed. There had been too many walkers, to many cars piled up. Beth didn't argue with Sherri or Rick as they discussed different routes, knowing it was best. The detour still caused a knot deep in her gut. Her husband's time was ticking away, slowly and steadily.

When the trio finally arrived at their supposed destination, all were a little uncertain. Rick bent down and recheck the map Paula had given them, verifying they were at the right cross section. The jumble of cars and the building before them _was_ where they were supposed to be. It didn't look as if they area was untouched as they had hoped.

"There," Rick said as he pointed across. "I think that's it."

Beyond a few other rear-ended cars was a large fire engine, lodged diagonally along the small strip mall. There was a sign hanging from the front store, Lloyd's Groceries and Liquors. It was twisted and hanging down lowly. The long red engine had plowed into the building, resting partially in front of the grocery but blocking the entrance to where they could only guess the ER veterinary clinic was located. The sign and most of the store front there had been smashed beyond recognition. The Dollar General at the end was clear and open. All the windows were smashed out, a plastic bag hanging on a shard shifting in the small breeze.

The area had definitely already been looted. It was not a great sign for their mission Beth though, but kept it to herself, knowing the silence of the others meant they were probably thinking the same thing. They had come all this way; they had to at least look around. They had to try. There weren't many options if this didn't work and Daryl didn't have much time.

Two straggling walkers turned their attention to them as Sherri pulled the Jeep in as close to the red fire engine as she could. She shifted the Jeep into park with a wary glance at their welcoming party. The walkers were far enough away still to not be a problem but were quickly closing in on them with each shuffling step.

"How we gonna get in there?" Sheri asked with a perplexed look on her face once she turned back to their task.

Rick took a moment to gaze over the situation, forming a plan. "The front of the liquor store is pretty well smashed up, maybe there's some sort of opening in the vet clinic too. Maybe we could squeeze in?" Rick offered with no real hope in his voice.

Beth knew waiting to talk about it wasn't going to change the situation. She exited the Jeep and pulled her bow to the front of her. With a fluid and quick motion, she loaded it and fired at one of the approaching walkers. The greyed woman snapped her jaw at the impact before dropping. Beth reloaded quickly, pulling an arrow from the quiver at her back before either Rick or Sherri exited the vehicle. She released after a measured aim, dropping the other with precision.

"Good shots, Beth" Rick told her approvingly, an appreciative nod of his chin.

Beth knew Rick still didn't see her too differently from as before. She was just a girl, a weaker member. The others might have told him she was capable, but she could see it in his eyes. Rick thought of her still as that teenage girl from the farm. She was grown, she was a woman. She could handle herself.

There was no time to waste, but Beth couldn't waste her ammunition either. She hurried and collected her arrows, placing them back in her quiver after pulling them hastily from the heads of the dead. With her bow replaced at her back alongside her quiver and the satchel she had brought for supplies at her hip, she was ready to explore the clinic.

"Let's check it out," Beth said as she led the way.

As the group passed the engine, something dark stirred inside. The windows were dirty; a grey-green film covered them so they could only see a shadow move inside. There was thud, maybe a hand, against the window that told them something was inside, and something was hungry. They didn't need to get inside the cab of the fire engine so whatever it was, it wasn't a threat.

The space beyond the truck was a complete and utter mess. There were glass shards covering the area from the broken windows and empty, broken bottles. The walls were unsteady, crumbling brick and drywall. A few shelves were twisted and tossed aside from the impact.

"Fuck," Sherri muttered.

Beth nodded in agreement. That about summed it up all right. The situation wasn't great.

The glass and debris Beth figured she could get around fairly easily. It was the entrance of the Vet Clinic that was still blocked. The giant engine blocking the area was too big to move, even for their Jeep. There was always the possibility of going back to get more bodies to help, but Beth didn't think they wanted to waste that much time.

Beth stepped carefully, thoughtfully, and picked her way until she was closer than before. If she craned her head down, there looked like there might be enough space. Maybe just enough that one of them could get through, well, maybe just her since the other two were roughly the same size. She could fit. It would hard, dangerous maybe, but she had to try.

"There," Beth said as she pointed to the area she had been looking at. "I think I can fit in there." She moved to take her bow and quiver from her back, there would be no room to squeeze in with them on her.

"Beth…" Rick started to protest.

The determined look she shot him stopped him from trying further. Beth was going; no one was going to stop her. Sherri knew better than to argue with her, giving her a nod of approval.

It was a struggle to get the correct angels as Beth maneuvered through the small opening. She hissed in pain as she caught her forearm on a shard of exposed glass. There was a little blood, just a scratch; she didn't even bother to look it over. There was one last jumble of junk in her way so Beth took a chance and shoved it to the side, heaving with all the strength she could muster in the small space. The building was filled with an eerie moaning of metal. Beth sprang forward through the new opening while Rick and Sherri sprang backwards. A load of debris fell into the passageway.

Beth scrambled away from the failing rubble as the dust billowed out and engulfed the small space she was in. It was murky, hard to see. There was little light, and now that was clouded with a haze of dust. Beth let a few clogged coughs escape her as she climbed to her feet, waving the dust away from around her and trying to get a better picture of where she was.

"Beth! Beth!" Rick shouted her name from the other side.

"It's okay," she coughed, just barely able to see his figure on the other side of the mess that was now piled between them. Her one escape route was now gone. "I'm good, I'm in."

There was some grumbling, the sound of metal dragging. "Okay, stay put, we'll get you out," Rick ordered.

"No. I'm good. Work on getting it open, I'm going to go and check it out," Beth responded as the last bit of dusty vapor started to settle around her.

Beth ignored the next few words from Rick. She knew he wanted to her to wait, he wanted her to be safe, but she could do this. It would be much more efficient for her to start looking while they were digging her out than for her to wait for them to join her. She could hear Sherri with Rick and knew it would be okay, they would get her out once she was done looking. She had faith in her family.

Beth pulled a flash light from her side satchel, flicking it on against the darkness. She never liked the dark. Too many creeping, crawling things liked the dark. Beth pulled her blade out as she scanned from side to side in the front room. The room was a disaster of overturned waiting room chairs, papers and files on the floor, and upended shelves. Nothing that would be easy to navigate in the dim light she had.

They had made enough noise to call up any lurking danger so Beth waited and listened for the telltale thumping or shuffling, counting in her head. _One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi._ She counted all the way up to ten, only hearing the noise behind her as Rick and Sherri moved the wreckage. Normally, their clearing protocol called for a longer waiting period, but Beth found she couldn't. Daryl couldn't wait.

With just the beam of light from her flashlight and the dim rays that managed to get through from the front entrance, it was a mess to traverse for Beth. She stumbled once, her footing slipping on the masses of paperwork littering the floor, a twinge of pain shooting from her already sore ankle. She noted a spray of black across a section of the floor, a foot print or two. She was certain the black spray had shone red at one point, people had been there.

Once Beth pushed through the front room into the back there was even less light, pitch black except for the small ray provided by her hand held flashlight. She scanned the area quickly, dragging the light over the large area. There were a few broken out sections she had to get closer to see, areas with shelves and counters. Another was further back with a huge sink, some metal tables. The last section held mostly kennels. One kennel had a mass of grey, slumped matted fur. Something had been left behind; Beth didn't want to know what so she quickly moved her light away. She didn't want to think about that poor animal, left to starve and die of dehydration.

The back looked to be even more of a disaster than the front room, more evidence that people had already been there. The shelves were supplies would normally be were mostly bare, empty boxes were littering the floor along with excess syringes and needles. It was a mess, a complete mess, but Beth wouldn't let it upset her. There was no time to be upset.

Beth started at the nearest set of shelves as she put her blade back in her belt, giving her a free hand to search the mess. Bottle after bottle, she tossed aside. Dewormer was not what Daryl needed. She did grab a few bottles that rattled with pills. They were nothing she recognized as antibiotics but wasn't willing to pass them up. Beth also shoved a handful of syringes and needles into her bag along with a few bags of saline with their lines they might be able to use. She would take anything and everything she thought they might be able to use.

Her satchel was half full when Beth left the shelves to start pulling open the drawers. She didn't find much useful in them except for the last one. It was a small, thick green book with the title in gold letters at the top, _Plumb's Veterinary Drugbook_. Beth looked down at the manual, remembering her father's. His guide had been dog eared and a constant companion of his. Her father hadn't been much of a "googler" so that reference book had been his main source of pharmaceutical information. Beth grabbed it, knowing Jess might find it useful, and shoved it into her bag.

Beth wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she had been able to search most of the vast area. She heard her name, Rick was calling to her. They must be getting close to being done, and so far she had failed. Beth hadn't been able to find what Daryl needed.

Frustration struck Beth, her anger shooting out to kick an overturned box. Unlike many of the others, this one thunked solidly as it tumbled over. It wasn't empty. Beth grabbed it, feeling there was some weight to it. The box hadn't been opened, perhaps it had been delivered just before whatever mess happened out there had transpired. The still sealed box was smaller sized but there was still something in it.

Beth set the flash light down on the counter, turned to spread the light over where she set the box to work. She carefully sliced the box open with her knife. Beth pushed it open. Little green packing peanuts were shoved aside as she dug in.

Her first prize was a small blue box with Enroflox 100 in white letters. Enofloxacin, Beth didn't recognize the name, but more importantly under that title and in smaller print was the word antimicrobial. That was what Daryl needed, that was what she had come for. The medication was injectable so Daryl might not like getting poked, but he'd live. That was the important part. Beth shoved the small box into her satchel, a sigh of relief escaping her.

There were a few other small boxes of another injectable medicine, GentaMax 100. Beth took them as well as two bottles of levothyroxine. She was sure that the last one wasn't what Daryl needed, but she couldn't afford to be picky. Beth knew the Enroflox was the best find, the others were just icing and she couldn't leave anything potentially useful behind.

Her name was called again, this time louder and more concerned. Beth knew she had to get moving. She hurried back to the drawer with the syringes, dumping a load of them and more needles into her bulging satchel. She rushed back the way she came, tripping slightly again on the paper littered floor.

"I'm here, I'm okay," Beth said as she approached the mangled mess she was going to have to get through once more.

Beth could see Rick in the newly formed opening, his head bent down low searching for her. She put her flash light away. The light from the shattered window and small opening was enough for her to see now, all around had a reddish tint due to the light reflecting from the red fire engine.

"Did you get it? Find what we needed?" Rick questioned.

Beth nodded. "Yeah, I think I got something we can use, I think Daryl will be okay." She wasn't completely certain, but she hoped Jess could find the answer in the little reference book she had grabbed.

Rick backed away from the opening as Beth approached. "I think it's big enough. You should be able to get through."

Beth crouched down in it, handing him the full bag. There was no way she was getting through the opening with that cumbersome pack at her side. The space was too tight, maybe more than before.

A quick glimpse showed her why Rick hadn't been able to force it open wider. The structure around it quivered with each movement she made, it was so unstable. Beth was surprised Rick had been able to manage that, the look he gave her let her know he thought the same as he waved her forward, having set her pack behind him. One little touch, a bump, and the whole thing could collapse. It was not a good place to linger.

Beth started to squeak her way through, contorting and holding her breath. It wasn't a long tunneled opening to get through, just a few feet but it was difficult to manage. As she reached the end her hip bumped the edge of a twisted bar, causing the wall to start to shake. Rick reached for her, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward with a force that wrenched her arm at her shoulder.

More dust and a loud grinding boom engulfed them as his motion thrusted her forward until Beth slammed into the fire truck, vibrating it with the painful collision. Rick followed her movement, his body over hers and shielding her from the collapsing debris. A metal beam fell forward just above them, crashing into the window of the truck cab. Glass busted out, most of it falling in but a few glittering shards raining down on them. Beth felt one strike her cheek painfully.

Both Rick and Beth held rigidly still, allowing a moment for the rumbling to settle down. Neither wanted to move before it was safe to do so. Sherri called to them from somewhere in the liquor store, asking if their asses were okay.

When it felt safe to do so, Beth tilted her head up to see Rick. He looked down at her, his blue eyes so bright in the halo of settling dust. He had his arms braced on either side of her against the cold metal of the fire engine. He had used his body to protect her. He was crowding her, his body pinning hers tightly.

"You okay?" Rick asked gruffly, pushing off her slightly.

Beth nodded, her cheek stung but otherwise she was fine. "You?"

Rick winced as he moved to straightened further. "Took a nasty blow to the – " His voice broke off into a gasp as his head was suddenly jerked back.

Beth saw the grey thin arms above them, the gnarled fingers twisting in Rick's hair. The walker inside the engine was lifting Rick inhumanly towards the busted window. Rick grabbled against the force, grunting with effort to rip himself away from the ghastly creature emerging from the cab. It was the walker they had seen when entering the area, the hulking silhouette they had decided wasn't a threat. The busted window had freed the grimy creature. With curled, twisted lips, the seemingly mummified walker snapped hungrily at Rick as he struggled against it.

Beth moved quickly as she went for her knife. She rose with it in one steady motion, striking up at the walker. Her blade pierced under the snapping jaw, inches from Rick's face. Beth twisted the blade after shoving it in hard. A crunch, a grating deep within and then Rick was released. The abrupt motion set Rick stumbling back a step on unsteady feet. Sherri caught him, setting him firmly on his feet.

"Thanks," Rick said, breathing deeply. He looked at Beth with a new respect, like he had never seen that side of her. He hadn't, he had never known the way she was now. He had been told, but now he knew. Beth could handle herself.

Sherri saw the look, a giant smirk on her face. "Told ya she could handle her shit," she snipped, giving a playful shove to his shoulder before she turned her attention to Beth. "Did ya get what Double D needs?"

Beth twisted her knife free, sheathing it quickly. "Yeah, I think I did."

Beth reached for her bag. It had been tossed to the area that Rick had sheltered her. She opened the bag quickly to take a look. Nothing was broken, nothing was leaking. A relieved breath escaped Beth before she hurried to collect the rest of her gear.

"We should get going, Daryl needs this sooner rather than later," Beth said as she started towards the truck.

"Wait," Sherri said, motioning to the side. "Got a few boxes here to lug back."

Rick shot her a judgmental look but Sherri shrugged it off. "We both couldn't dig her out, there wasn't enough room. So I looked this place over. Found some shit we might need."

"You were supposed to be watchin' our back," Rick grumbled with annoyance.

Sherri gave a dismissive flick of her hand as she trudged over to a few boxes containing miscellaneous supplies. "I'm a woman. I can damn multitask."

Beth followed Sherri, looking over the boxes quickly. There were a few bottles of various liquors, a giant jar of suckers and few other items. One box looked to be marked explosives and caution, looking like an array of fireworks.

"We don't need this," Beth said with furrowed brows.

"You always need a little liquor… for wounds and sterile stuff, ya know," Sherri explained with a glint in her eyes that suggested she had different purposes for it. "The suckers are for the kid. Oscar deserves a treat now and then."

"Fireworks?" Rick questioned skeptically, bending to grab one of the boxes.

Sherri snorted grabbing the other box. "Never know when we might want to celebrate," Sherri retorted. "May need it sometime, distract a herd or something. Shit, I don't know. Just found 'em behind the counter. Thought, why the hell not… wouldn't hurt."

They each had a box as the made their way back to the Jeep. The heaviest was taken by Rick, sloshing around in his arms. There were a few bottles of wine, red by the looks of it, along with a couple other odd bottles. So many of the bottles had been broken in the store so Sherri must have found the only few that hadn't been taken or busted.

The trip back was shorter since they were able to take a more direct route, yet it seemed somehow longer. Beth was in the back seat by herself again, boxed in by the liquor. She couldn't stop the restlessness that plagued her, anticipation making her edgy. She shifted in her seat, unable to get comfortable. Beth tried not to think about how long they had been gone or if Jess had been able to get Daryl's fever down. She tried to focus on Rick asking questions as Sherri drove, asking about roads, about locations. He was learning, he was doing his leader thing. She just tried not to think about how much worse Daryl might be.

Beth didn't release an easy breath until the farm was in view. Vinny let them in the gate, and Sherri drove up to the main building. Sherri had barely thrown the Jeep into park before Beth's hand was on the door handle. Just as she opened the door, a scream pierced the chilled air. It was a high pitched scream, long and full of despair. Something was wrong, dangerously wrong.

Her wide eyes met Rick's eyes briefly, only a split second, enough to see the wild concern in his eyes as well. His child was within those walls. Beth broke the look as she rushed out the jeep, her satchel in place and drawing her bow already.

Daryl was the only thing on her mind.

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I promised I wouldn't make you wait so here it is. Sorry, it's a bit longer than normal and not edited – I didn't think too many would mind. This chapter is an OC chapter – Jess. I hope everyone has warmed to the character – I know there were a few "death threats" when she was putting the moves on Daryl back in HOME. The chapter does not start at the end of the last – you didn't really think I would resolve the cliff hanger that easily, did you?**

 **As always, the characters from TWD are not mine – I just like to play with them. Enjoy!**

 **################################**

CHAPTER 9

Jess slipped the warmed ice pack back into the freezer and pulled the other one Marie had told her about out. It was time to switch them out. Jess was thankful that in the short time it had been since Beth, Rick and Sherri had left, Daryl's temperature had already started to drop. A fraction of a degree higher, just a little more, and he would have been in danger. Real danger, the kind Jess didn't know if she would have been able to pull him back from.

Beth would come through, Jess knew that. Her friend was young, but if Jess knew anything about Beth, it was that she was determined and was strong. And Beth loved that man. Beth loved Daryl wholeheartedly, and he loved her back just as fiercely. It was good they had found something in the middle of the chaos and danger the world had become. Jess was happy for them… she had to be. Her one attempt at a pass at Daryl had failed miserably, crashing and burning. So if she had no chance at a relationship with hilly billy hunk, she was glad they had each other.

Their marriage, their happiness, brought an additional level of anxiety to the equation for Jess with Daryl's illness and injury. It heightened the risk more, even though Jess hadn't thought it possible, it was. She was beyond worried, almost terrified. There was no way she could live with losing another woman's husband… not again. She couldn't take the guilt.

When Alex had died, Marie's husband, Jess had repressed it all, the grief and the remorse. There hadn't been any time, they had barely been surviving. She, Marie and Oscar had needed to push forward, to find a way to endure. There had been no time to think about it so Jess didn't. She buried it deep, locked it away even after they had found safe haven.

Then Marie had said those words. She had told Jess what Jess had known the whole time. _It should have been her._ It should have been her that had died that day, not the brave Alex. Marie had taken the unbearable words back within hours, begging for forgiveness at their utterance. Marie hadn't meant them; she had been upset. Her cousin had been flush with worry, mad with grief just moments before Oscar had been returned, Jess recalled all of that. Still, the words had been said and Jess couldn't unhear them. The pain was in the truth of the words. Jess couldn't lock the guilt away again, she didn't even try.

Jess had found herself unable to give Marie the forgiveness she had pleaded for. How could she? Jess couldn't forgive herself. How was she supposed to forgive Marie for giving voice to the fears from her own damn head?

It never should have been her to come back from that fateful day. Alex should have made it. He was Marie's husband, Oscar's father and Jess's friend. He should have been the one to live, but life wasn't fair. It never had been.

On that wintery day almost a year ago, walkers had been coming. Jess and Alex had been trapped while out on a run for supplies. There had been one chance, Alex and Jess had rushed for the exit, ignoring the side doors littering the hallway. Alex didn't hesitate when a ghoul had lurched out from one of the open doors, its teeth boring down on Jess. He had pushed her to safety and took the bite that was meant for her. While he wrestled with the dead man, holding it back along with a flood of more walkers behind it, Alex had screamed for her to run. He told her to run and not look back. Jess didn't even think as she staggered to right herself, she didn't even thank him. She just ran. She ran hard, panting and frantic to escape the horror behind her. She never looked back and she could never get those screams of his out of her head.

More than once in the past few months, Jess had laid awake at night thinking about those few seconds. She told herself she should have stayed and fought with him, knowing it was only his hand that was bitten. He might have been saved. Jess should have been the one to push him out of the way. She should have never gotten them into trouble in the first place, but the medical building had been too good to pass up. So much should be different if only she had tried harder or acted differently somehow.

"Jess?"

Her name startled her, a voice almost straight from her own thoughts.

Jess turned around to see Marie standing in the kitchen door. Marie had her black hair twisted back from her face in a messy clip. The morning had been hectic, and it showed on the slumped shoulders of her older cousin. But if Jess thought about it, really let herself think about it, Marie had looked like this for months. Marie had tired eyes, dark circles under them. There was tightness in her skin along with a loss of color to the normal caramel hue she had. It all added to the look of frailty of her cousin.

Marie hadn't broken when Alex had died, but she had come close, so close. Jess knew the death of her husband had nearly destroyed the both of them but in the end it was Oscar that had kept them going. Her young nephew had needed them, scared and uncertain in his own right, he needed them more than they needed to grieve. The small boy had barely been five years old when his father hadn't come back. Oscar understood what dead was, he had understood his father wasn't coming back. Poor Oscar had been exposed to death so many times, so many people had been lost, that it had almost been just another day, another cry, for the young boy. Her nephew had survived the death of his father better than the two women, better than he should have had to.

But life wasn't fair and the young could adapt better. The new reality wasn't as absurd to the children had lived in it for more than two years, and it was fresher for them. Oscar really didn't know the world any other way. He had been so young when the world had ended. No, that wasn't true entirely… the world wasn't done. It was just different, and it was this. It was just for that most adults, Jess included, it seemed like it had ended.

When Jess didn't immediately respond, Marie asked, "Is Daryl okay? Do you need more help?" Her concern was genuine; her lovely cousin had always been a helper.

Jess took in a deep breath to steady herself after all her dark thoughts. "Daryl is okay. His temperature has dropped some. I just needed to grab a new ice pack. Paula is watching him for me." Jess moved to step past her cousin.

Marie stepped to block her. "Jess… can we talk?" Her brown eyes were worried, full of strain.

Jess didn't want to. She found herself barely able to maintain eye contact with her cousin, let alone have a full conversation with her. It had been like that for the spring and summer months, ever since Marie's fateful and remorseful words. The chilly onset of winter had done nothing to settle what was torn between them, their shattered bond. They had always been much more than family, the best of childhood friends migrating into trusted adult friendship; sisters in everything but actual blood. A relationship snapped by words.

With a shake of her head, Jess tried to pass her cousin. "Not really. I need to get back."

Marie shifted and placed her hands on Jess's arms to hold her in place gently. " _Por favor_ … Jess, I just need a moment."

Jess conceded any further movement but avoided actually looking Marie in the face. "What do you want?"

Marie pressed her lips hard together before she spoke, her brow furrowed almost painfully. "I heard what you said before… with Daryl. About not being able to lose him."

It took Jess a moment to recall what Marie was speaking about. Then it filtered in, the memory of her own words. _I can't lose another woman's husband_. _I can't_. Jess lifted her brown eyes to Marie's and knew that was exactly what her cousin meant. She saw it in Marie's troubled eyes.

Marie slid her hands down to Jess's wrists, giving her a little shake to emphasizing her words. "I'm sorry, Jess. I'm so sorry. How many times do I have to say it? We need to get past this, Jess. You are my cousin, _mia familia_. I love you. Please, please understand what I said… I said in a moment of weakness."

Jess actually lifted her gaze to meet her cousin's hopeful one. She stared hard back at Marie. Jess wished she could believe those forgiving and pleading words, she wanted to believe them. The problem was the truth that was in the original ones. Jess should have never been the one to return, Alex was more needed by her family than she was. The words were ringing in her ears at that very moment.

 _Alex should have come home._

 _It doesn't matter, don't you see? Alex should have been the one to come home. Every… every time I look at you I think… I think Alex should be here._

"But you meant it," Jess reminded her. "I know that. I know it was the truth… hell, even I think it's true. It should have been me and not him." Her voice was strangely void of emotion, uncharacteristically for her. Jess had already resigned herself to that truth months before, Marie should also.

Marie released a shaky breath. "Please, Jess, please. Don't do this. I want you back. I need you back."

Jess shook her head sadly. "You are stronger than you think, Marie. You are better than before, you have to be. I might not always be here, you gotta rely on yourself. I'm not Alex. I can't be… I tried to be… tried to protect you and Oscar, to be there, to be strong, but I'm not him. I can't be."

Marie wrenched Jess into a forceful hug. "I never asked you to be. Oh, Jess, I just want you to be my friend again, my cousin, _mia familia_. Please don't be mad at me, please forgive me."

Jess sighed, her arms not returning the hug. "I'm not mad." She wasn't. Her cousin had spoken truth; she wouldn't punish her for that.

Marie pulled back from her fierce hug, tears in her eyes. "You're something. Something is keeping you from Oscar and me."

It was the truth. Jess avoided them. It was easier to do with all the people and responsibilities at the Wilkens Farm. There was just enough space so she could still have her own little room, but not for much longer if they kept picking up more people. Avoiding Marie and little Oscar, even for a few hours at a time each day meant that maybe her own guilt would be silence for a minute, hopefully hours. It was selfish of her but it was all she had at the moment. It was the only way she could cope.

Jess pulled further away from Marie. She didn't have the time for this. She didn't want to deal with it, afraid of what else she may find buried deep inside herself.

"I have to go. Daryl needs this," Jess explained in a hardened tone to let Marie know the topic was done… at least for now. To further her point, Jess raised the ice pack that had chilled her fingers, switching it to her other hand.

Marie couldn't resign herself to what Jess wanted, to allow her to escape. She had to try at least one more time.

"Okay, Jess. Just please know… please understand I love. I do," Marie implored with earnest.

Jess had no reply as she walked around Marie, her steps hurried as she left the kitchen area. She was needed; there was a patient she needed to get back to. Marie made no attempt to follow, and for that Jess was grateful.

Almost instantly as Jess rounded the corner to the hallway, she bumped into Roslyn. The older woman was awkwardly carrying a large metal wash basin. The hallway was large, but the cargo in the Roslyn's arms was blocking Jess's path.

"Roslyn, what the hell?" Jess griped as she attempted to step around the obstruction, her annoyance piqued more so from her conversation with Marie than the actual hallway blockage. "Where are to you taking that thing?" They had used the basin and a few like it for the fall harvest of in the orchard. It normally resided in the barn.

Roslyn narrowed her green eyes at Jess's language. It had been a point of contention between the two women. Jess knew she had a bad mouth. She held it in check especially when around Oscar, but there was something about that woman, the prim and proper matriarch from back at the Elwood compound, that just made her want to cuss.

"A task, a very important task that is in dire need of my attention," Roslyn huffed with a toss of her head, but then paused, "Does Daryl need it? If he does, I certainly can wait."

"Nah, just – just be careful with that thing. You'll take someone out if you aren't. I already have enough to do," Jess grumbled as she bypassed Roslyn.

As Jess entered the infirmary, Paula raised her head from her needle point. Jess went directly to Daryl, not saying anything to the older woman even though Jess could feel those attentive green eyes on her. Jess knew she didn't look the same as she did when she left a few minutes before. Her breathing was elevated, she felt flushed and agitated. She knew Paula could tell she was upset but she didn't want to talk about it. Hell, she hadn't want to with Marie so there was no way she was about to discuss it with Paula. The elder woman was nice enough. She had welcomed their group in with open arms and treated them each as family almost from day one so it wasn't Paula. Jess just wasn't ready to talk about her problems.

"Daryl is doing the same," Paula informed, perched on the edge of her chair.

"Hey, Dixon," Jess said softly as she reached to touch him. She had learned a long time ago to never startle Daryl. Jess may be stubborn and brazen but she wasn't stupid.

Daryl didn't stir. His eyes were still closed but not restfully. They were pinched tightly at their weary edges. He was still so pale but at least there was a little more color to him than before. His brow was sweaty, his brown hair sticking to the edges. Daryl was warm under her touch, not burning, but still hot. The last temperature Jess had taken had been 103 even. She didn't have a lot of hope it was less than that at the moment. Jess raised his head slightly as she placed the ice pack under his neck again. Daryl only offered a grunt of complaint at the movement.

As Jess eased back from her patient she had a familiar thought, one that scared her. Even if she was able to heal Daryl, she knew it would happen again. Not necessarily with Daryl, even if he was her most repeat customer, but an injury or illness of this nature would happen again. The baby, Isaac, could become sick. Someone would fall. Something horrible would happen and she would be here again. She wasn't a doctor. She was a damn good paramedic, had been one for almost eight years before the shit storm of the walking dead had happened. There was only so much she was trained to do, only so much she could offer. Her limitations would be the death of someone…someone she cared about sooner or later.

Jess gave a disapproving head shake at the thought, slow and low.

Paula notice and raised her concern, noting the tension in Jess. "Jessica, dear, what's wrong? Is it Daryl?"

"No. He's okay. He's no worse, no better," Jess explained dejectedly. "I was just thinking…. We need to do this differently, do this better."

Paula was confused by her vagueness. "Do what?"

"Everything I guess," Jess answered in a heavy release of breath. "We have to stop thinking about how it used to be, or how it was. The world has moved on, we have to too. We need to figure out how to live, how to survive again. Go back to old school, the pioneer days if we are going to survive this. Medicine, food, shelter… everything we used to know is going to be gone soon. We need to learn and fast… before we die because of ignorance."

Paula nodded thoughtfully. Sure, this place had some electricity, it had a working farm. They were able to can most of their harvest plus they had a few other food sources with the chickens and hunting. They would be okay for now, but they had no plan of what to do when products started to wear out like the medicine around the world that would soon be expiring. How did one make their own soap? How could you heal a fever without modern solutions? What to use to make new clothing? So many questions…

"I guess if we are going to survive, we are going to have to start thinking differently," Paula said simply as she placed her needle point back in her small travel bag. "We need to be different."

"None of us are who we were anymore," Jess said with more of bite than she had meant.

Paula took no offense but rather offered her support. "Don't lose hope, missy. "I know it's daunting being the go-to-person in a crisis like this. You can only do what you can and God has the rest, we know that. We all try. Sometimes we fail, other times we succeed. But we all have to make the effort to try again and maybe again and again until we get it. We'll get there." The older woman rose painfully, her injured hip wasn't enjoying the newly arrived winter weather, and placed reassuring hand to Jess's shoulder.

Jess put a hand over the Paula's with a pat. "Yeah, we will." She didn't know how, but at least she knew they would try.

"I think… if I remember correctly that there is something we might be able to use in my mother's things. A plant book, something about the various species around the South, what they can be used for cooking and medicinal purposes. Very old but it may be useful. I have other reference books. I can go look… if you don't think you need me here."

"Yeah, that would be great start," Jess replied, feeling a little brighter than before. "Daryl… we should be okay for a while. No use in both of us just sitting here."

Paula limped to exit but paused before leaving. "Jessica, you know if I don't have it, we'll find it. We can start looking. We'll figure it out. Maybe museums or libraries or antique shops are the places to start. You are right. I guess we just never thought about it. The world… our lives from before… it ain't coming back and I really like all of us to stay breathin'. We can do this." With a nod of assurance, Paula left.

All alone, Jess didn't want her melancholy thoughts to creep in again. She decided to take her own advice. She reached for a first aid book that was stored in the room. Jess had leafed through it before, the first week they had been there. Her arrogance had told her the book held nothing new as she had thumbed through it. The book probably didn't, at least not for her skill level, but that didn't mean she couldn't refresh herself, heck even learn something new. At the very least it would be a good review and way to pass the time so she didn't worry. When this crisis was done, it was time to take someone else under her wing to train and pass on her knowledge. Just in case… since the world wasn't fair.

Jess was engrossed in her manual. She only raised her eyes beyond the book to ensure Daryl was breathing and resting every few pages. Her entire focus was completely on learning.

So when Daryl grunted, almost growled, it completely startled Jess. Her entire body went rigid with the shock as she jerked her head to see him. For a damn fleeting second, Jess expected milky white eyes to pop open and gnarled hand to reach for her as the thing that had been Daryl snapped at her. In that heart-stopping moment, Jess had thought she had failed again, there was another dead husband.

Then Daryl half opened his dark blue eyes, squinting to see her. "Jess?"

With a relieved intake of air, Jess rose to be at his bedside. "How are you feeling?" She moved to touch him slowly, her palm to his forehead. He was warm but much better than before.

Daryl muttered something incoherently, more of a grunting langue that only Beth seemed to understand. Jess thought he had asked if the medicine was working. Before she could answer him, she wanted confirmation. She put the thermometer in his ear. A few moments passed with a double beep, warning her of a high temperature – 102.1. She'd take that any day over what he had been.

"Yeah, the medication is doing its job. You are still high but not dangerously anymore," she informed him, her relief apparent.

"Feel like shit," Daryl mumbled as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Ah, real words. I appreciate that," Jess jabbed at her patient, feeling even better that the man was finally speaking real words to her and not just grunting.

A growl escaped Daryl. Jess had no doubt he was probably flipping her off as he was prone to doing as she check the ice pack under his neck. It was still cool enough for now. The other was probably still freezing. She would wait a bit before changing them out again.

Jess left his side and returned with a bottle of water and more ibuprofen pills in her hand. "I need to overlap these for your fever and pain until we can get you some real meds. And I want to hydrate you more," she said firmly, knowing she needed to make it an order for Daryl before he would even think about complying. She had dealt with Dixon in her hospital bed more than once.

There was no fight from Daryl. He was sick enough so even he knew it so he complied without complaint. Daryl let her press the pills to his mouth as he raised his head as much as he could to accept them. Then he sipped the water, just enough to swallow what he'd been given.

Jess stopped him as he pulled away, her hand at the back of his head. "No, drink more. You need liquids in you," she ordered as she pressed the bottle back to his mouth.

Daryl shifted his head slightly away. "Don't feel good," he complained with grumble.

"That's why you need it. As long as you don't feel like vomiting, you need to drink."

Daryl grumbled again, deep in his chest, but put his lips on the bottle presented to him. He drank another couple of sips before pulling away. He seemed almost completely exhausted from the small effort. His eyes were already beginning to drift close.

Jess sent a disappointed scowl at him but took the bottle back. She wanted more water in him but she'd take what she got for now. She glanced over at the clock, calculating when she would force more water down him later.

The look at the clock was the wrong thing to do. Jess had been avoiding it as much as possible. It brought to mind how long Beth and the others had been gone. It hadn't been too long yet, but just enough time had passed to start to wonder what they might have run in to. Had they been successful? Did they need to search elsewhere? Were they on their way back already or had they run into danger? So much to worry about on top of everything that had jumped at her today.

All of those unanswered questions made Jess think about her decision to ask Beth to go instead of her. Beth was certainly capable; Jess had seen that more than once while they had been traveling out in the open for weeks. It was just that Beth was barely healed from her twisted ankle; maybe being out there was pushing it too far. And then there was allegation Daryl had thrown out there… was Beth pregnant? Had Beth been truthful when Jess had pressed her or had Beth been more determined to save her husband than considering her own condition? Jess hoped she hadn't sent a pregnant woman to fight the dead.

As Jess eased herself back into her chair, she shot a look at Daryl. She could tell that while Daryl was resting, he wasn't sleeping. She dared to broach the subject, trying to ease a little of her worry.

With a cautious clearing of her throat, Jess ventured, "You said Beth was pregnant."

Her statement was enough for Daryl to sharply raise his head and look at her, frowning. "What? When?"

"Earlier… before she left," Jess told him.

Daryl deepened his frown. Jess could tell he was trying to remember. It took him a moment before he grimaced as a memory took hold. He didn't look pleased at all.

"Is she?" Jess probed.

Daryl directed a glare at her. "You let her leave the farm."

It wasn't an answer to her question, it made her stomach clench. "Beth said she wasn't. Why do you think she is? Did she lie to me?"

Daryl's glare withered as he eased himself back down, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. "No, not really. It's just… she might be," he answered thickly.

Jess gave a disapproving shake of her head. "Aren't you two being safe?"

She knew she sounded so much like a pestering parent at the moment, and it probably wasn't her place, but she liked Beth… hell, she even liked Daryl. She just wanted everyone here to be safe. Then again, maybe the couple had decided to start trying already. She didn't know. Beth had never said anything about it to her. Beth was only nineteen but maybe they were ready to start a family. Some people could be brave in this new world, if anyone could do that it would be those two.

There was another uncomfortable shift of Daryl's body in the cot, a grimace on his face. "Most part," he mumbled. His face grew red, and his eyes looked anywhere but at Jess anymore.

The parental voice in her slipped out again. "Most part? Did you not get a health class on sex ed in redneck country?" You need to be safe _all_ the time. One little slip up and BAM! You get a little human being. Not a nice surprise when you weren't lookin' to be makin' one," chided Jess.

Daryl scowled further than before. "I know that. I know it's puttin' her at goddamn risk," he growled back. His anger, his frustration, didn't seem to be directed at her, not like it was with the accusation that she had let Beth leave the farm. Rather, this time it seemed more internal, directed back at himself.

His reaction puzzled her. "Hey, Beth is strong and young and healthy. If something happened, she'd be better off than most. She'd be okay," Jess offered in an attempt to reassure him.

Daryl trained his eyes up at the ceiling, a determined look crossing his face. "Don't matter. Don't want to risk it, risk her. Not ever." There was finality to his statement, like the decision had already been made. It surprised Jess.

"So…no babies then?" Jess questioned.

"Not if I can help it."

Jess arched a brow in Daryl's direction. "Well, that part is largely on you so you can probably manage. But it takes two to tango. As long as Beth is on board…" Jess had seen her friend with that little Isaac. Beth would sing, she would rock the infant, and she would just smile in awe of that little man. Seemed like that woman wanted kids.

A dry cough escaped Daryl. "Ain't really talked about it," he mumbled.

Jess huffed at his statement, now it all made a little more sense. "That's generally something most people chat about before they decide to get hitched… in the shower." She'd heard the story from Beth, who had left out the juicier details, but she gotten the general idea once the pair had come forward with the rings on their fingers.

A flush crept over Daryl's face again that had nothing to do with the fever but he ignored the shower jab. "Nothin' needs to be talked about. The world is shit. That ain't gonna change," he stated firmly.

Jess shrugged. "World has always been shit. It's just a different kind right now. Gonna be another kind in a few years."

A low growling grumble was her only response.

"You don't have to like what I said, but this is definitely shit you gotta talk about with Beth. Gonna have to deal with it sooner or later," Jess snipped back. She was overstepping and she knew it, but what the hell.

With a stretch of her tight shoulders and the absence of Daryl wanting to converse, Jess left him to fume. She dove back into her book, taking notes and marking pages of important information.

The clock ticked away. It wasn't long before Jess forced more water into Daryl and switched out his ice pack. His temperature hoovered just under 102 for the first time. Jess had a feeling it wasn't going to budge until they got antibiotics into him. She worried about having to reopen the wound at his stomach. The skin had started to close and the sutures were secure despite the man's continuous attempts to move constantly. The wound may need to be cleaned again to completely rid him of his infection even if they got the antibiotics they needed.

Jess must have looked up at the clock one too many times after she exchanged the ice pack. Daryl noticed. His eyes drifted over to the large white clock over the door frame, watching the second hand tick.

"How long she been gone?" he asked quietly.

"Not too long," Jess answered a little too fast. Rick, Sherri and Beth should have been back by now if everything had gone right. Unfortunately, when things went wrong out in the world nowadays, they had the potential to really go wrong.

A short grunt escaped Daryl, letting her know he didn't believe her… or at least she thought. She wasn't an expert at Daryl grunts.

"No need to worry yet," Jess reassured him and maybe herself a little.

Jess was about to tell him Beth was with Rick and Sherri and not alone. Hopefully that would settle him down more, but she never got the change to even open her mouth. A scream, loud and long, echoed down to their level from the floor above. A chill ran down her spine as she bolted to her feet.

Daryl moved as well, too quickly for a man as ill as he was supposed to be, as he attempted to get up. Jess put a firm and staying hand to push him back. Daryl huffed painfully, glaring at her but relenting. There really was no strength left to the man.

"You keep your ass here. I'll go see," Jess instructed firmly.

The dark look in his deep blue eyes argued but Daryl gave her a slight nod.

"Stay," she ordered as she rushed for the door. "Or I'll fuckin' tie you down next time."

The scream came again, words and shouting. It was coming from upstairs. Jess bounded up the stairs, her smaller legs unable to take them two at a time, but she sprinted all the same.

Her hand was on the blade at her belt as she rounded the corner. A mass of people were gathered in the hallway, seeming to be centered around Kayla. The new mother's hands were at her blonde curly hair, bunched and pulling as she screamed again. Kayla was screaming about Isaac.

The baby… the baby was gone.

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 **A/N: What? Another cliff hanger? I can't help myself. I know I have a problem but I don't want to take my medication. Please let drop me a review – let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: See – I'm trying to get back on track with weekly posts! Let me know what you think – most of you seemed to have already figured out what all the suspense was about.**

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Chapter 10

Beth could hear another bellowing scream followed by more yelling as she exited the vehicle, pulling her bow into her hands. Rick was only a second behind her along with Sherri, both rushing to leave the jeep. It was obvious the clamoring and more was coming from above, whatever was wrong was happening upstairs.

With a fleeting look Beth glanced over her shoulder, wisps of blonde hair blocking part of her view as she yanked the main door open. "Rick, go upstairs. I'm going to check on Daryl," she directed in a rush.

Rick nodded, his stride not faltering as he entered behind her, his gun drawn.

Beth sprinted toward the infirmary. She noted Roslyn peeking out from the laundry room area, a frightened and perplexed look on her face. Beth ignored her, her goal of reaching Daryl set in stone. Beth rounded past the woman into the infirmary, weighed down by her heavy pack and skittered into the room. Her heart was pounding at what she might find.

Her blue eyes trained on Daryl. He was there in the cot and he was fine. Her coiled body was finally able to release the desperate breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in. He was painfully rolled up on an elbow looking at her, utter relief on his face as well. Beth let the satchel and her quiver slide from her shoulder careful to the floor and her bow was set aside as well she took hurried steps to her husband. She couldn't control the urge to touch him. She knew they should both be concerned with the shouting from above. It sounded frantic. Beth knew Rick would sound a more urgent alarm if warranted; right now she just wanted Daryl.

"Beth," Daryl rasped, still sounding weak but at least sounding more like himself. The hazed fever was gone from his eyes. He was still pale and looked weak, but was at least upright and talking. His condition looked so much better than before.

"Daryl," Beth murmured, her hands cradling his face.

She wanted to take a moment; she needed just a moment with him to ease the worry inside her. Honestly, Beth wanted to do much more to him, but the poor man was ill. The skin she touched was still hot, not burning like before, but enough to make her grimace.

Beth let a thumb stroke the stubble on his cheek. "Where's Jess?"

"Ran off when the screamin' started. What the hell is goin' on?"

"No idea. I find her and see what is happening. We found meds. We need to get you started on them," she said, taking her hands from him.

Beth pulled the knife from her belt and pressed it into his hand. She could tell Daryl wanted to protest, to tell her take it but no argument came as she curled his fingers over the hilt. She knew he was exhausted and weak beyond how he was holding himself. Daryl would have been the first person charging in to whatever mess was happening upstairs.

With a stiff nod, Daryl eased back down on the cot, holding the knife tightly. Beth worried her lower lip as she grabbed her bow and quiver just in case. She needed to get Jess back to Daryl; he needed to start the medication as soon as possible.

As Beth entered the hallway, she could hear more shouting. Kayla. Tigo. Some others. There was a heated discussion going on above. There were more rushed footsteps. It couldn't be good.

Roslyn seemed to know Beth was there as the older woman poked her head out again. A more annoyed look plastered on her puckered face than before. "What is all that commotion!?"

Beth shook her head. "Going to find out. Stay here," she responded shortly, heading for the stairs.

Roslyn huffed dramatically. "It's upsetting the children. I'm trying to do God's work here, and all that shouting is upsetting the children. For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in. Pslams."

Beth waved the woman off. Roslyn wasn't her favorite person, not with slapping her and all the hateful things she'd uttered at Beth after they fled the compound. Still, Beth held a fair amount of guilt about her inability to save Becky and Peter. Just looking at the twig of a woman would sometimes make those festering feelings billow to the surface. Could she have done something differently? Should she have chosen a different way to escape? It happened months ago, but Beth could still remember the anguished cries of the two young people as they were dragged away. The remembrance of it would send shiver down her spine, the memory of her failure.

There wasn't time at the moment to dwell on the regret. The shouting was much more understandable as Beth bounded up the stairs. Her long legs stretching to take the steps two at time.

"He's gone! How many times do I have to say this? Isaac is gone!" screeched a hysterical Kayla.

Beth's throat clenched painfully. Not baby Isaac. She felt a sting of tears at the thought of the tiny infant gone. SIDS was the first thought to cross her mind before she heard another voice, Tigo, respond.

"Babe, settle. He's gotta be here. He can't just have gotten up and walked away."

" _You_ were supposed to be _watching_ him! FIND HIM! FIND HIM!"

As Beth reached the top of the stairs she found the crowd of people huddled around the room of Tigo and Kayla. Just about everyone was there minus Nate and Vinny on guard duty. Beth settled her bow onto a place at her back as she approached.

Kayla stood just outside the door pulling at her hair. Her face was a deep red with tears streaming down her face. Her whole body quivered with frustration and fury, making Beth very worried for her friend. Tigo cringed next to Kayla, his hands out and trying to calm her. Michonne and Jess hovered just beyond him, also trying to the calm the extremely anxious mother down as Beth came to stand next to a confused Rick.

Beth nudged Rick to get his attention of the spectacle before them. "What is going on?"

Carl answered instead, standing next to his father, a grimace on his face as Kayla started to yell again. "Kayla left Isaac with Tigo to finally take a shower. The baby was finally asleep again after sreamin' all afternoon. Tigo laid down and fell asleep too – he'd been on double duty since you all went on the run. Now Isaac is gone, Kayla is freakin' out and no one knows much more," Carl explained in a hushed but rushed tone.

"Who took him? He's my baby! Mine!"

Kayla was fierce, hysterical. Beth knew how much this child meant to the mother. She knew the history behind Kayla's other children, the ones that were taken and gone. Beth remembered how blatantly protective Kayla had already been even before Isaac had been born. That coupled with the lack of sleep from an exhausting and colicky newborn, Kayla looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Maybe someone thought to give you a break. Let's go look. Tigo is right… Isaac couldn't have walked off by himself. Someone has him," Michonne said calmly, trying to placate the frantic mother with a soothing tone but her eyes darted to Rick and Beth held worry.

Kayla snapped away from a gentle arm Michonne had placed on her. "Anyone who would have had him would have brought him back by now. I want my son. I want him NOW!" She pointed out to the crowd.

Her words rang true with Beth as she looked over the gathering of people in the cramped hallway. Anyone who would have the child was already there – Marie and Paula were huddled at the other end with a crying Tina and stunned Lindy. Beth already noted Vinny and Nate on guard duty. Michonne and Jess were there next to Tigo and Kayla. She, Rick, Carl Denny, and Sherri were all the other side. Daryl was on the cot and Roslyn in the laundry room. That was it. That was all of them.

Just as Beth felt the same uncertainty as Kayla had about her son's whereabouts over her, the answer jumped out at her. "Roslyn," Beth uttered, feeling more certain as she said the name again. "Roslyn."

"What?" asked Rick, not completely hearing her over more ravings from Kayla.

Beth turned on her heel and raced back down the way she had come. "Roslyn," she repeated loud enough for all to hear.

Roslyn had said _children._ There were only two children on the Wilkens Farm – Oscar and Isaac. The certainty of Roslyn made the hairs on Beth's neck stand up as she hurried down the stairs, despite not having a concrete reason for the apprehension. Beth knew Roslyn helped with various tasks despite not being very useful, and sometimes that meant helping with Oscar when Marie was very busy. Roslyn seemed harmless, but the woman just wasn't right.

Beth heard everyone fall in step behind her as she barreled down the steps. It shouldn't be this urgent. Everyone shouldn't feel the same way she did; there was a nervous earnestness in their rushing. Maybe the older woman had just been trying to give the new parents a moment to themselves. But it was odd to take a sleeping babe from a sleeping parent and not respond to the uproar that had happened. It made her heart pump a little faster.

Beth led the crowd to the laundry room, the last place she had seen Roslyn just moments before. She slowed once she arrived to the ceremony happening before her. There was a large metal basin they used for the harvest in the middle of the room, half full of water. Oscar, looking confused, seated precariously in the water. He was awkwardly trying to hold the whimpering baby. Isaac's little fists were flaying and his face pink as if another screaming fit was about to come, probably due to the wetness seeping into his clothes. Roslyn stood next to them, reading from her bible, and not pausing as people started to flood into the room.

"Isaac!" Kayla shouted and pushed by the others.

The mother dove for her baby as Isaac released an explosive wail. Poor Oscar's eyes started water, the six year old was unsure of what was happening. Marie rushed for her son while Tigo went to Kayla.

"Stop," Roslyn protested, her brow furrowed. "The children are being baptized. They need God with them. They need our Lord at their – "

With one arm cradling her child, Kayla shot a fist across the face of Roslyn, striking her hard. The older woman stumbled back, falling to the floor. A painful cry escape Roslyn, obviously stunned by the sudden violence as was everyone else in the room. Beth wasn't entirely surprised by Kayla's response; she knew how much her child meant to her.

"Told you already, bitch. My child, my decision," Kayla snapped viciously over the cries of her infant. "Goddamn crackpot."

Tigo tried to embrace both Kayla and his child but Kayla shrugged him off, cradling Isaac closer to her chest.

Roslyn placed a trembling hand over her split lip, tears welling in her eyes. "The child needs Christ our Lord. Both children need that for health, for their protection. We must – "

"My child was baptized years ago as a baby," injected Marie, pulling Oscar from the tub of water. "You okay, baby? She hurt you?"

Oscar only shook his head and clung to his mother, his soggy clothes dripping wetness everywhere.

Paula was the only one of them to go to Roslyn, checking on her. "This is not the proper response, Kayla."

Kayla barred her teeth, almost snarling, as she clung to her sobbing, wet child. "It was the right _goddamn_ response. I told that woman no this morning when she insisted. More than once and she just went ahead and took my baby and did whatever stupid religious ceremony she wanted. Roslyn got what she had coming."

Paula frowned. "Violence is never the answer. The baptism hurt no one."

"My baby is crying again. He is awake, wet and cold. She had a six year old holding in him in a tub of water. Oscar could have dropped him, could have let him slip under the water…" Kayla shook with fury. "What the hell is a splash of water and a few words going to protect Isaac from? _Nothing_. God has helped none of us. God has saved none of us."

"The Lord protects all those who love him, but He destroys the wicked," came Roslyn's mumbling response, still trembling on the floor.

Kayla took a threatening step toward Roslyn, making the woman cower at the sudden movement. " _No one_ takes my baby. _No one_ takes my Isaac. He is _mine_. They took the others, but not him, not him. I'm a good mother. I'll protect him. I'll keep him safe. He is _mine_ ," Kayla hissed before she whirled around and rushed from the room with Isaac.

Before Tigo followed, his dark eyes trained on Roslyn as he pointed a finger at her. "Don't you dare touch my family again, old woman. I'll kill you if you do."

"Ernesto Santigo!" Paula exclaimed in exasperation but it made no impression on the young man as he stomped off to follow Kayla.

Marie scooped up her son into her arms, holding him to her despite his cool wetness. "Don't presume with my child ever again either. He is not your responsibility," Marie said calmly but pointedly with a dangerous glare.

"The righteous person may have many troubles but the Lord delivers him from them all," Roslyn spat indigently as the tears started to fall. Her lip was bleeding and her skin red, a promise of a blooming bruise already forming.

"Jess, can you take a look at her?" Paula asked, helping Roslyn up.

Jess gave a disgusted shake of her head. "Hell no. Put some damn ice on it. Try to get it through her sick head that she can't be touching the children. Not again, and not my nephew," she said as her hand grazed over Oscar's head, checking him briefly as Marie went to leave. The little guy was confused and wet as he clung to his mother, but he wasn't hurt.

This drama was taking away from what was really worrying Beth. She wasn't even sure why she was still there, standing with the rest of the group, but she needed Jess to help. She cleared her throat loudly to get some attention, making eyes turn to her.

Jess seemed to understand instantly. "I have a more urgent patient to care for anyway," Jess announced with a head tip towards Beth, directing out of the room.

Beth didn't have to be told twice as she followed Jess, leaving the chaotic scene behind. Roslyn and her arrogance still need to be addressed but she didn't want to focus on that. She had Daryl to be concerned over. Rick and Michonne were already approaching Paula, most likely to discuss the situation. Beth would let them handle it.

Jess paused once Beth followed her into the hallway, her concerned brown eyes finding hers. "Did you get it? Something to help Daryl?"

Beth smiled softly, feeling relief for the first time that day. "Yeah, I think we did."

Jess returned the smile, looking like relieve washing over her, shoulders relaxing. "Good. I didn't want us to be down one red neck. He was kinda growing on me."

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	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here we go again. Thanks for hanging in there with me on this story. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter – it has a lot of feels in it.**

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Chapter 11

It was late. Night had fallen. There was no way Beth would ever be going back to her bed upstairs until Daryl was well enough to go with her. No way, no how. If she had to curl up at the foot of his bed like a dog, that's what she was going to do. No argument from Daryl would ever change her mind again. Beth still couldn't believe she had let Daryl talk her into leaving him before. It wouldn't have stopped him from getting sick and it probably wouldn't have made him confess his symptoms any earlier. Nothing would have changed and they would have still needed the meds, but maybe Beth would have noticed it earlier, maybe it wouldn't have seemed so desperate.

Beth and Jess had poured over all the information they could find about the medications she had been able to locate. They read the little white disclaimers that came with the meds and cross referenced them with the veterinary handbook like the one her father had used. Then they tried to research the antibiotics in any of the first aid information the little infirmary already had. Finally, they made their decision on which veterinary medicine to use, trying to make the best informed choice they could.

As predicted, Daryl had been less than eager to be poked but in his condition he had been given little choice. They had cleaned his wound as much as possible but Beth had known it had hurt; her husband had tried to silently endure and grimace but had failed more than once.

After ten hours since the administration of the antibiotics, Daryl's fever was finally under control and the infection seemed to be at least under control at the moment. Jess was hopeful and Beth was relieved.

So why couldn't she sleep?

It was quiet, middle of the night and no one else seemed to be awake. Even the normally fussy Isaac seemed to have drifted off for a few hours of precious sleep.

The moon was out; high and glowing white light that highlighted her sleeping Daryl. He was resting more easily and breathing more quietly now that his fever was down under 100. His hair was getting a little long again and in need of a trim she noted from the chair she was perched in next to him. Beth had a blanket on over her lap to keep the chill away as she rested. The chair was uncomfortable to sleep in. She could easily take the blanket and the extra pillow and stretch out on the floor, as she had done for nights in a row before. Beth knew she should at least try and rest, Lord knew she was tired. Despite her exhaustion laying heavily over her, Beth just couldn't sleep.

Beth had been ignoring the reason, hiding it away during the frenzied rush to help her husband. It hadn't even been a thought she'd had on her own until Daryl had released his own worry in a fevered plea. _Pregnant_. Was she? Beth was certain she'd know. A woman knew her own body, didn't she?

A strange sense of uncertainty filled Beth as she worried her lower lip. Her eyes darted from Daryl to the glowing moon and then back again. He was sleeping. Daryl was sound asleep, his breathing slow and even for hours. She could leave him for a moment. Just a moment to be certain, couldn't she?

With a deep breath of resolve and before she could talk herself out of it, Beth eased herself quietly but quickly from chair, setting the warm wool blanket down in her seat. She crept from the room and down to the supply area. Her footsteps were nearly silent from her training with Daryl.

It was dark in the supply room, rows and rows of supplies hidden in the blackness. Beth closed the door behind her before she dared turning on the light, not wanting to alert any passerby to her presence. The brightness stung her eyes, making her blink rapidly before she could adjust. She could have waited and asked Kayla, who managed the room. She could have asked Jess to help her look as well. But Beth didn't want either woman involved at the moment. There was a clenching in her gut as she admitted she didn't even know if she wanted Daryl to know just yet either.

Searching the rows and rows of miscellaneous supplies took longer than Beth thought. Finally, she was able to locate a few boxes of pregnancy tests in the way back up on a high shelf. Of course they would be located there; they weren't anything many in the group would have needed… especially on a daily basis. She should know looked there first, instead of wasting time near the front of the room.

Beth took one of the small pink and white boxes into her hand. There weren't many of them. She supposed someone would notice sooner or later that one was missing. Beth figured she would deal with questions if they came her way. But right now, she wanted it to just be her. She wasn't sure exactly why. She had shared so much with Daryl the past few months, over the last year really. Even though Beth wanted it to just be her at the moment, Beth knew she could rely on Daryl for this if she wanted to. He would never fail her in that; he would always be at her side. Right now, Daryl was hurt and sleeping and didn't need to be bother. Or at least that was her justification as her insides squirmed painfully as she clenched the test box firmly in her hand.

Beth turned off the supply room light off, letting her eyes readjust to the darkness before she ventured down the hallway. She hurried quietly to the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind her. She ignored the fine tremble in her fingers as she ripped the packaging open. She brushed it aside, attributing it to her exhaustion. The instructions were fairly simple. Pee and wait. And so she did.

Afterwards, Beth set the test on the edge of the sink as she washed her hands quickly. She didn't have a watch on but the box said it would take five minutes. Five minutes in the middle of the night would be an eternity, watch or no watch. Beth drew in a deep breath before releasing it slowly, trying to control the growing anxiety welling up within her. When that failed to quell the worry inside her, she nipped at her lower lip again, creasing her teeth down hard on her sensitive skin. The pinch of pain that came helped to center her, to try and push back the troublesome worries.

Beth glanced to the mirror before her. Her own worried and haggard reflection peered back at her. She was only nineteen years old. She felt decades older than the two years and few odd months that had passed since the world had changed, since she had changed. Beth didn't even know if she could see the sixteen year old girl in her anymore. That happy go lucky and smiling little naïve teenager she had been when everything had changed. She could barely remember what it felt like to a boy's hand at a dance, giggle uselessly at secrets being told and dreaming of running off to Nashville to become a star. All of that was gone now, just gone.

Was what Beth saw staring back at her better or worse? She felt so much stronger, more capable, than she had ever felt before, even if her own strength seemed to be wavering at the moment. She was a woman now, a wife, a leader, a provider. She didn't feel the same, but she still held the same values close at heart; to love others, to help others, to care for others. Perhaps the real question was she ready to be a mother?

Beth didn't even have to hesitate to answer that question. _No_. She wasn't. If she had a choice, if there was even that possibility nowadays... Sure, she had stepped up and helped to practically raised Judith on her own, especially after they had merged with Woodbury and Carol had been so much busier with the council.

The thought of Judith brought a swell of another emotion to the surface. The little infant Beth had loved as her own was now lost to them all. There was rawness there, an emotion buried since she hadn't had a lot of time to deal with the idea of that beautiful little girl being gone. Judith was dead.

Beth couldn't bear to look at herself anymore as the grief and sorrow started to flood her. She ran a hand over her face and turned away. She tried another long cleansing breath as she leaned back against the sink. Beth knew she couldn't open those doors at the moment, ones holding back all the heartache and sadness that had been piling up inside her for days. She could handle just one thing at a time. Her own possible pregnancy had to be dealt with first and foremost at the moment.

Knowing it was too soon but unable to stop herself, Beth glanced down at the test stick. A haze of a blue line was coming in. From what the instructions had said, it looked like the control was coming in. But Beth needed to know if there was going to be a plus or another line. She didn't want the plus, that much she had already admitted to herself.

At least not now, not yet. She loved her husband. She loved Daryl with a passion that was still hot and crazy and so new. Even if the world wasn't hell and chaotic and everything was stable and easy, she still wouldn't be ready. Not yet at least, someday… just not today.

Beth turned back and braced her arms against the sink and closed her eyes. She held them tightly shut. A watched pot never boiled, she could hear her mother's bell like voice ringing in the back of her head. Beth counted silently, slowly and spaced with a reserved patience that seemed to be tapping into the last of her will power. She made it to the count of two hundred and eleven before she caved. She had to look again.

When she opened her tired blue eyes again, they immediately focused on the test in front of her.

Two blue lines.

She wasn't pregnant.

She wasn't and that was a good thing. So why wasn't she immediately happy? Why wasn't the longest relief filled breath escaping her? Why wasn't the tension leaving her shoulders or the clench in her gut subsiding?

Beth pushed aside the ringing questions in her head. She took the test, the instructions and wrappings and shoved them hard into the small package. She exited the bathroom to return to Daryl. She deposited the evidence in the garbage in the infirmary, burying it carefully under other trash so not to be detected.

Beth lowered herself back into her stationed chair and curled the blanket around her again; the chill of the night was starting to affect her. She wasn't pregnant. No baby. No worry. No problem. She tried to tell herself that. She tried. She tried to understand it was a good thing, but somewhere else deep inside her was telling her the opposite. A rush of disappointment and sadness bellowed up from deep within, stinging her eyes in a way she couldn't stop. Tears started slowly at first, leaking at the edges before a soft sob escaped her. She didn't understand what was happening to her, she didn't understand the emotions that were the opposite of what she had been thinking.

She didn't want to wake Daryl, so she covered her mouth as another sob slipped out. She had to be quiet, he needed his rest. She didn't understand how she could be crying over something she didn't even want, something that had never been… just a possibility. It was so stupid, it was so irrational, but she couldn't stop.

"Beth?"

His voice was barely a rasp, deep and low. He had heard her, of course he had. He was Daryl.

She didn't answer him, tying to stay still, trying to hold it all in. She didn't know what to say to him, how to explain what was happening to her, she didn't understand it either. How could she tell him?

Daryl knew better. "Beth," he questioned softly again. She could hear the concern in his tone, he knew something was wrong.

Beth took a stabilizing and shaky breath as she wiped at her face. "It's okay. I'm okay."

She could almost hear him scowl at her response, her hands still covering most of her face. "It ain't. You're upset."

"Daryl," she protested, trying not to sniffle but failing. "It's nothing. You need to rest. Go back to sleep. It's okay."

Daryl grumbled heavily as he shifted up painfully to look at her from his elbow. "Beth… talk to me, woman."

Beth didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't really know where to start or how to explain the sudden rush of emotions she had felt. So much had happened over the past few days. Her husband had nearly died… twice. Some of their family had returned to them alive. Some were dead. The memory of her father dying in front of her had rushed forward at the oddest moments during this time. And then there was the final straw, strangely that she wasn't pregnant.

Unsure of how to explain all of that, Beth started where she could. "I'm not pregnant." Her body hitched as she spoke the words softly, threatening to cry again.

Daryl said nothing in response at first. She could see him in the moonlight now that her own eyes were cleared of the blearing tears. His face was stoic as he looked at her. His dark blue eyes trained on hers, watching her. She didn't know what she expected to see him. Relief? Sorrow? But it was something other than his cautious watching of her.

His gaze betrayed him finally with flick to her blanket covered abdomen. "How do you know?" he asked quietly.

"Took a test," she muttered back to him, a slight blush heating her cheeks. Beth hoped the dark hid it from him.

Daryl swallowed, slow and with difficulty. "And you ain't happy?" he questioned hoarsely.

"Yes," she said immediately, but then began to stumble over more words as they pour from her. "No… I don't know… I know I didn't want to be pregnant. I know it's the not the right time but I can't… I can't stop but feeling like I… feeling like I lost something." The tears started again, Beth wiped at them angrily.

" _Beth_."

The way Daryl said her name, low and rumbling. It made her want to crawl into him. Daryl would protect her. He always did… from walkers, from dangerous people, from himself even at times. Beth wanted him to protect her now from whatever it was that was eating away at her. She just wanted to let her husband to engulf her, to swallow her up in his strong, safe arms.

Daryl must have felt the same way. He struggled to sit up, using one heavily bandaged hand from where an IV had been placed earlier to pull himself up. His other hand cradled his middle where his wound was raw and fresh and much more painful again. Beth couldn't let him strain himself even if it was she desperately wanted. He was hurt and healing and needed to come before her silly emotional needs.

"No, Daryl, don't get up," she said as she rose from her chair next to him, trying to get him to settle back down.

Daryl made no effort to stop. Instead he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to him. Beth let him, she knew she shouldn't but she did. She let his arm drape over her shoulder and she curled into him. More tears started to fall again. Daryl held her tight, his protective arm curled around her. His other hand brushed a few stray hairs from her face as his lips brushed a kiss to her hairline. He let her weep, he kept her safe.

"It's not just that," Beth managed to get out, sucking in a sobbing breath. Tears were still coming but somehow more stable than before. "It's my dad and seeing Rick, Michonne and Carl. It's Judith. And it's you. I almost lost you, Daryl. _Twice_."

"You were never gonna lose me," Daryl reassured her, but they both knew it wasn't exactly true when it was happening. It was now, but during… it had been much scarier and a possibility.

Daryl continued to hold her as Beth worked to composed herself. "I don't like being this weak. I'm stronger than this now. I have to be."

He huffed at her statement. "This ain't weak."

"I'm a crying mess," Beth replied with an edge.

"Everyone's allowed to let it out. You stayed strong even when you shouldn't have to. Shit. The stuff you did today to save me… shouldn't have had to do that," Daryl grumbled back.

Rick had been more than detailed when he had relayed their search for Daryl's medication. Rick had meant to give Beth credit where it was due. But Beth had seen the upset glint in Daryl's eyes as Rick had told how she had gone on alone in the dark and the sudden struggle to save Rick from the erupting walker. She knew Daryl blamed himself for the dangers she had been in.

"I'm so happy to have Rick and Carl and Michonne back… I am… but…" Beth gulped down the words she had barely let herself think, let alone say out loud.

Daryl finished them for her. "But you'd rather have Maggie… Glenn."

Beth fought against another rush of tears. "Yes. Isn't that awful."

He pressed another kiss to her crown. "Nah. It ain't. They're your family."

"So are Rick and the others. Everyone is family now. I should just be happy with what we have, I shouldn't… I shouldn't wish for something different," she countered sadly.

"Maggie's your sister." Daryl tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His dark blue eyes burned down to her, letting her know the truth of his words. "It ain't bad to want her here. Probably shoulda been with her this whole damn time."

Beth saw the pain in his eyes, the knowledge that her husband thought she should have been with her sister, that it would have been better than with him. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Give a choice, years before, yes Beth knew she would have chosen escaping the prison with Maggie over anyone else. But Beth knew now that was the wrong choice for so many reasons. She loved the man before her. Even before the romance between them, Daryl would have been the better choice. Beth didn't know if Maggie was alive, she didn't know if she would have survived as well with Maggie. Her older sister had never believed in her like Daryl did, never thought enough of her to show her how to survive or how to useful in this world. Beth had to grow up fast with Daryl. It had been hard and hurtful at times but she had survived it and grown from it. She wouldn't change that for anything.

"I was meant to escape with you. I was meant to be with you," Beth told Daryl without hesitation. It was truth she believed in.

The intensity in him seemed to relax at her words, his eyes telling her he believed her. For once Daryl wasn't fighting her words. Finally he was allowing himself her love.

"You were," Daryl told her, brushing another random strand of her golden hair back from her face. "You ain't weak. You're strong, hellava lot strong than you know." And for once and without question, Beth let herself believe in his truth.

Beth wanted nothing more than to relax into her husband. She wanted to kiss him, and melt into him completely. She wanted to be enveloped in his comforting touches, to stay forever in his warmth. But she knew she couldn't. He shouldn't. Daryl was injured, gravely, and needed time to heal and rest. He didn't need her crying all over his bruised and damaged body.

Beth gave him a last gentle and reassuring hug before she started to pull away. "You need to rest. You should lie back down."

Daryl released an annoyed snort. "Tired of being damn tired."

"Sooner you rest, the sooner you'll get better," Beth chimed, bringing forth another of her mother's old sayings. This one did not bring a swell of sorrow as the one earlier had.

Beth released him from her hold, trying to ease up from the cot but Daryl's hand went to hold her in place. "No. You ain't sleepin' on the floor."

She started to protest, they had already had this argument… more than once. "The chair –"

Daryl growled. "You can't sleep in the damn plastic thing. Ain't even a high back. No." He was forceful with his words, his annoyance at the situation boiling over.

"Daryl, I'll be fine," she protested back.

He shifted back on the cot, slowly and painfully, with gritted teeth. "Here. Lay here with me."

There was the smallest space available but it would be pressing up against Daryl. That couldn't be comfortable for him. She couldn't do that to him.

Beth gave a shake of her head. "No. I'll be fine on the floor. It'll be okay."

A scowl was firmly set on his features. "It's either you here with me or me down there on the floor with you. Ain't no other way."

Beth gave him an exasperated look as she released an aggravated breath. She couldn't have him on the floor in the dirt and grime. And she knew Daryl was stubborn enough to do it. She had no choice.

"Fine. But you tell me if you hurt, or if it's too much, or if I'm crowding you," Beth relented.

"You could never crowd me, woman," Daryl returned as he attempted to gingerly scoot another inch over, his back firmly against the wall.

Beth settled in carefully as much as she could. She hoovered by the edge as much as possible to give Daryl space, but his strong arm draped over her, pulling her closer to him to spoon. The blanket covered the both of them nicely; Beth could already feel herself relaxing. Too many sleepless nights without her husband next to her, she had come to need his warmth to sleep.

"You good?" she asked. "It's not too much?"

"Just fine… but…"

"But what?" Beth questioned as she looked back over her shoulder to him, worried she was hurting him.

It was dark in the room, but the faint moonlight allowed her to see the smirk that was on his face. "But now I'm tryin' to think of a reason as to why you should be naked."

"Daryl," Beth groaned. "Sleep. Time for that when you are better."

"I'm pretty sure I'm better now," he replied, his voice going lower.

"Daryl," she reprimanded despite the heat that pooled between her thighs just at the sound of his voice in her ear. _Damn him_.

"Pretty sure it would help me feel better too…"

"Daryl!"

 **################################**

 **A/N: This is the end of what I'll call Part 1 – there are going to be 3 Parts to this story. I think I'm leaving you at a good point. Wait? What? I'm leaving you? Yes. I've got to get caught up in Part 2 before I can start posting again. I'll be on a little hiatus to get caught up - hopefully it won't be too long but please continue to hanging in there with me!**


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Daryl strode to the main building, having just left the watch roost of the farm house. He had just completed his first watch shift since being approved for normal duties. Just the thought alone made him huff gruffly. In his opinion, he'd been more than able to help days ago, weeks even. Those damn women, Beth, Jess, Paula, Marie, Sherri and Michonne, hell even Rick and Carl seemed hell bent on him _recovering_ _fully_.

The whole thing just ended up being a damn lot of wasted time with him sitting on his ass getting soft if you asked him. Sure, it was only last week that Daryl could fully move without pain and it had taken more than two weeks of meds to keep the fever off him permanently but that didn't mean he couldn't have been useful.

Another grumble escaped Daryl as his long stride brought him quickly to the main house. It was chilled outside, his steps crunching in the November morning frost. They had been lucky so far this winter. There had been no real snowfall for their region of northern Georgia. Further south last year, he and Beth had been hit by that one particularly bad storm that had deposited a few inches of slushy snow. It was cold most days, enough so that he could see a puff of each breath early in the morning, but not dangerous cold yet. It wasn't anything their group couldn't survive, but it was beginning to get hard keeping each room warm. The group didn't have the power to keep the whole damn place heated to a comfy 68 degrees.

At least on cold nights Daryl had a warm woman pressed up against him, tight and close. Frustratingly, his recovery period had extended to most bedroom activities as well. Beth had insisted more than once on waiting for him to _heal_. So this week had been a blessing, Daryl had finally been able to prove just how _healed_ he was to Beth… more than once.

Although Daryl hadn't fought too hard against waiting on bedroom activities at first. He may have grumbled loudly more than once but honestly it had been a slight relief to wait. Beth had cried so hard about _not_ being pregnant that it had thrown him for a loop. Sure, other emotions had all breached over and slipped out, but that was the one thing that still shook him. A baby.

Daryl didn't want a child. He had never wanted a child even before this shit storm had happened to the world. Beth's words to him that night caused utter relief since she wasn't pregnant while simultaneously planting a terrifying seed deep within him that children were a future thought for his wife. The fact that she had told him she wasn't ready for a child now helped to relieve serious tension in him. On the other hand, the topic wasn't closed. Beth wanted a child.

It was a concept that Daryl didn't understand, not really. Beth was good with the little ones, Daryl found himself passable at least. He still hadn't really gotten close enough to touch little Isaac, but he got along with Oscar fine enough. After Lil' Asskicker, Daryl didn't know if he could ever have enough hope to see a little one grow up again. It just wasn't in the cards anymore. Oscar was six now, gaining that distinction a few days ago at a small celebration. Jess and Marie had gotten him this far in the hellish world, but the odds weren't in his favor. Oscar was far from safe; none of them were ever safe anymore. Still, the little boy held promise. Oscar could hold a knife, he knew how and when to be quiet, when to run and when to fight.

Sadly, that was the way they all live now, that was the world any child was going to have to grow up in. It didn't differ much from Daryl's own childhood. It was just another reason he saw no reason to bring another child into this world. Others could be brave, others could hope, fight and lose. Daryl had enough of himself put into the future of Beth. He didn't think he could give anymore to another human being, let alone a baby.

How the hell could he get Beth to see that?

It was a conversation he'd have to have with Beth sooner or later. A talk he dreaded, but he knew completely they needed to have. Even if he waited years, it would likely have to happen. There was no way around it. On top of it all, there was no safe forms of birth control, not that anything ever had been if you read all the packaging, nothing he'd ever really paid attention to before. There was no alternative anymore. If you were pregnant, you were pregnant. A terrifying thought that Daryl had hoped would keep his hands from his wife constantly, but unfortunately when Beth looked at him or showed even an inch of skin to beckon him forth; all those thoughts went out of his head. He was filled with nothing more than her and him and pleasure.

Daryl took one last look skyward before he entered the building. It was clear and blue today. It boded well for the run that day. A run that he wasn't included on and just another reason for the heavy scowl on his face.

As Daryl entered, he saw Rick standing nearby as if waiting for Daryl's return. He'd been on watch since midnight, taking a longer than normal shift. He'd missed the normal morning breakfast rush for food. His stomach noticed but hadn't complained yet. A life time of uncertain meals had trained it well.

Although Rick and Michonne had been absorbed into watch duties along with a few others, Daryl had felt the need to take a longer shift today, to try and make up for his lack of use for weeks. He'd told Paula to give him a bit more time from her shift. The older original resident generally took the early day shift every day. Her lack of mobility due to her injured hip made it difficult for Paula to help with many of the chores so she often took up the stationary guard duty as her own. The woman may have been in her mid-sixties, but her long vision was still damn near perfect. Paula was a farm girl raised true. She was a damn good shot with the rifle. This cold of winter was making her hip and joints hurt worse of late, even though the gentle Paula never complained, Daryl thought the woman deserved a few extra winks in bed.

Rick nodded over to Daryl, summoning him over. The last few weeks had felt oddly uneasy having Rick and the others back. Daryl would have thought he'd have relished the return of some of his group, of Rick having his back again. Rick was always a man that could be trusted like that. Michonne and Carl as well, much more than that idiot kid Nate. But Daryl found falling back into old roles of Rick's leadership and him being a right-hand man weren't happening, he'd found his voice and wasn't about to lose it.

As much as Daryl thought he didn't want the leadership role before, he found himself unable to relinquish it fully. Others in their group still looked to him for guidance. Rick was new to them, an unknown. Daryl also found his friend to be much more wary than before, too uneasy to settle into this new place. Daryl couldn't blame him. Safety breed complicity and they'd had too many places taken from them once they'd felt safe. And the Wilkens farm made you feel safe with the fences and pits and people.

Rick had told them about their time apart. His journey had been tough and plagued with numerous dangers and hardships. Sure, Daryl and Beth hadn't had the easiest time either, but they had also had time to heal, to build and to grow while at the cabin last winter and spring and then this summer and fall here at the farm. It didn't sound like Rick, Carl and Michonne had more than a week to breath, let alone learn to live again.

Rick wasn't the same man from the prison, nor was he the same from the road that first winter, nor the farm. Rick was harder, more dangerous than before. Daryl still trusted the man with his life, but there was something different about Rick now. He had always been ready to go the extra mile to protect them all, pushing harder and further than anyone else. Now, he seemed even beyond that. Daryl couldn't explain it, just a feeling he'd gotten when Rick had asked him in confidence once if they needed to _take_ this place. An idea Daryl had shot down immediately.

There was a council now, similar to the prison. Daryl and Paula seemed to be the unofficial leaders of it with Jess, Rick and Tigo also belonging to the council. Daryl and Jess had pushed for Beth also, but the original group had fought for Tigo, finding themselves quickly being outnumbered by all the new arrivals. Daryl and Jess had relented to Tigo, allowing for an odd number of people as a necessity for tie breakers rather than just adding Beth.

"Watch go okay?" Rick asked as Daryl approached, handing him a mug of steaming goodness. It wasn't coffee; there wasn't any of that left. Daryl found himself starting to enjoy the strong tea Marie and Kayla concocted most mornings. It sometimes was a little bitter but perked you up quickly.

"Quiet," Daryl grunted before he took a gulp of his drink. It was hotter than normal, slightly burning down his throat and into his stomach. He didn't mind, it warmed him up after hours of sitting in the chilled air of early morning.

"Good," Rick said but not seeming to really mean it.

The walkers found them at the farm still. It was hard not to be noticed with so many people plus those damn noisy chickens. They didn't have the same walker traffic as they'd had at the prison; it was more like at the Greene farm. Just a few each day came wandering from the woods. Never more than a few dozen bodies burning at the end of a week was normal. It was nice, but it made you forget, made you less ready for when worse would come from the tree line.

Daryl sensed his friend had more to say so he lingered next to Rick as he drained the rest of his drink. He was right. It was less than a minute before Rick was clearing his throat and turning his attentive blue gaze back to Daryl.

"So the run today…" Rick started.

Daryl knew the tone. He had the same feeling. Today would be the first since their group had left for medicine for him. Add in the run where he'd been left behind and the hunting trip with his terrible fall, and people were a little nervous. They didn't have the best track record when leaving the farm.

Beth was the only one who had left the safety of the farm to hunt a few times, being very successful. The damn chickens were great for eggs, but meat was less than forth coming from them normally. The three additional mouths to feed of Carl, Rick and Michonne wouldn't put a strain on their food stores for the winter. The apples and potatoes had been more than plentiful at the very least. Daryl wasn't a picky eater, but he knew others were already growing tired of the same food. Everyone appreciated the variety of a few rabbits or turkey now and then.

The run that was planned for today had neither Rick nor Daryl going even though both had argued against. Today was all about the women, only Beth, Jess, Michonne and Sherri were going. Their destination was a large neighboring farm only a few miles away. It was thought it wouldn't even take them the full afternoon to complete. A short and relatively safe trip in search of basic supplies and possibly antiques lending to the way life was now like petal sewing machine, corn grinder and more.

"Yeah, what about the run?" Daryl didn't know what Rick wanted him to say.

They had argued unsuccessfully about being included. The women had countered that they were more than capable completing the mission without a man attached. It was true; all four women were more than capable. Despite that and being sexist as hell, both Rick and Daryl wanted to go, both seemingly having the same uneasy feeling about it. In the end it was decided, and Daryl wasn't in a position to change it.

"North has fewer walkers, right?" Rick questioned again, followed by a dozen other questions about the jeep's stability, the gas expenditure, the weather, and a few others they'd hashed out a few times already.

Daryl gave him the same answers as before, having gone over it just the evening prior. But this was Rick in his leadership mode, going over a plan repeatedly until all possibilities were discussed. Daryl was used to it, it had always made them safe before, made Rick more secure.

What gave Daryl pause was the fact that Rick was more uneasy about this run than any other Daryl could remember. Daryl knew why he was anxious about it; he never liked Beth too far from him. He just wasn't sure why Rick was. Rick understood Beth was more than capable of handling herself beyond the fences, so she likely wasn't the reason. Perhaps it was Sherri? Rick and Sherri hadn't really clicked well since his arrival. The busty red head ran her mouth more than she ought to. Daryl didn't think it was Jess either.

All that left was Michonne. Michonne seemed to be the answer for Rick's heightened need for planning but the exact reason evaded Daryl. He was missing something, not really understanding why. Rick had been with Michonne on the road for so long. Perhaps Rick was just was just worried more about her than before, like Daryl had done over Beth while they had been alone together, like he still did.

Then it hit Daryl. _Michonne_ was the _answer_. How had he missed it before?

Confirmation came as Rick raised his own mug to his mouth again to drink, pausing between questions. The ring that had been a constant on his left hand at the prison even after Lori's death was missing. Rick had arrived with the ring still in place, something Daryl never gave much thought to until that moment as he noticed it was gone.

Suddenly all the long looks, the smiles and the little things he'd noticed while flat on his back between his friends, Rick and Michonne, made so much more sense. He'd thought they'd just gotten closer during the year, more like the family group had been at the prison when Michonne hadn't been such a close member. Now Daryl understood it was more than that for his friend, much more.

Daryl sent a sly look to Rick when he finally seemed to have asked all his questions. "Run'll go fine. Women are taking two vehicles to load up in case one don't work. They're just goin' to the horse farm, same place this group's been to before. Goin' back for shit they never thought to take before. They shouldn't run into problems. She'll be fine." Daryl threw that last comment, letting the words slide out as he tried to hide his smirk by bringing his mug to his lips for another drink.

"I know she can handle herself, it's just… I mean, _they_ can handle themselves just fine," Rick sputtered out after realizing his own mistake, attempting to recover despite the growing redness in his face. "The women… _all_ the women are more than capable," Rick clarified with a stretch of neck and an uncomfortable shift of his shoulders.

"Sure it ain't just one that you're worried about?" Daryl questioned with a suggestive tone.

Rick dropped his head, shaking it. " _Shit_. Is it that obvious?"

"Hell, I figured it out and I ain't exactly observant to that shit," snorted Daryl, his lips twitching upward once again at his friend's dismay.

"Think anyone else knows?" Rick asked.

Daryl arched a brow. "I figure I'm probably the last one knowin' how the women around here can be. Hell, Jess figured Beth and me out before I even did."

Rick rubbed a strong hand over his face and down his jaw. "Well, shit."

"Does _she_ at least know?" asked Daryl.

"Yeah, Michonne knows," Rick replied, a silly grin growing on his face.

"Well, brother, at least _she_ knows. You got one step in the right direction," offered Daryl with a quip as he turned to leave, having let Rick delay him long enough.

As Daryl continued down the hall, he could see Sherri and Michonne out by the Jeep and truck. He had expected Beth to be there, getting ready with them, or maybe in the main room like Rick had been, waiting on him so he was disappointment when she was neither. As he climbed the stairs to the second level, his only other thought was that Beth was in their bedroom. That idea was probably the best he'd thought all day. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he could somehow manage to talk her into crawling under the covers with him rather than going on the run. Then Rick could go, and everyone would be happy.

Upon his approach, Daryl noted the bedroom door was cracked open and there was humming coming from inside. Beth had a beautiful voice, whether it was singing, just talking or the breathy cries she made just for him. He walked a little faster, knowing who he would find inside.

As Daryl entered, it wasn't exactly the sight he'd hoped for. Instead of a half-naked woman lying ready for him in bed, Beth was cradling the baby Isaac in her arms, pacing with him and soothing him with her sweet tones. The little guy was in what his mother and the rest of the group hoped was the final stages of colic. Daryl had heard the baby's cries and whimpering more often than not during the long nights of his recovery. Isaac was a difficult baby, nothing like the sweet and quiet Judith had been, but everyone still loved him. No one held it against the little guy for his excessive fussiness. At least the kid wasn't wailing at the top of his lungs constantly anymore. During the worst part of it, Daryl had his nerves rubbed more than a little raw, probably didn't help he'd been cooped up recovering for days, stuck healing and waiting and listening to crying. It was enough to drive any man crazy.

Beth saw him enter but she didn't break her tune. Her eyes found his and a smile broke out across her face. Damn, she was beautiful. Her light blonde hair was braided tightly and was draped over her shoulder. Her blue eyes sparked above that perfect smile. Daryl knew how lucky he was.

The baby looked awake in her arms. His curious brown eyes focused on the woman holding him. Isaac was a little over two months old. He was no longer a tiny breakable creature but seemed sturdier now. The little guy had hands that had begun to reach, legs that would kick, finally starting to do more than fuss and shit and eat.

"Got stuck with Isaac again, huh?" Daryl muttered with no real malice.

He didn't really care if Beth helped with the baby. Hell, he knew she enjoyed it. It was just seeing her with that baby, it made him think of everything he knew he couldn't… wouldn't give to her. The baby was just a reminder, always managed to put him on edge.

"Oh, Uncle Daryl doesn't mean that," Beth cooed at the baby, scrunching her nose. "He knows your nothin' but a joy."

"A messy and noisy, stinky and blubberin' joy," grumbled Daryl once again without antagonism as he set his crossbow in its usual spot by the nightstand.

"See Isaac, you can't let yourself grow up to be a grumpy old man," Beth said with a teasing glint in her eye. "No one likes a grumbly old bear."

"Hey!" huffed Daryl indignantly. "I ain't a bear."

Beth laughed at his joking retort. "You certainly are my grumbly bear." She leaned in to him with the baby still nestled safely in her arms and nipped a kiss on his frowning lips.

Daryl twitched under the quick kiss but made no move to return the touch. Damn kid was already a cock blocker. Daryl scowled, knowing he couldn't touch her back the way he wanted to at the moment. The mischievous glint in Beth's eyes told her she knew that fact too, making it even worse.

Ignoring the fact that Beth had the upper hand, Daryl cleared his throat. "Thought you'd be down with the others gettin' ready to leave by now."

"I was. Just needed to get my boots and bow before I got side tracked for a moment," answered Beth as dropped her bright blue eyes to gaze at the infant in her arms once again.

There were few that Kayla trusted with the infant especially after Roslyn pulled her stupid baptismal stunt weeks before. Beth was one at the very top of that trusted list. Hell, Daryl thought maybe even he was above Tigo despite never having held the baby yet. The poor young father had just closed his tired eyes for a few minutes while on baby watch and had now spent more than a few nights sleeping on a couch in the main living area. The tension between mom and dad was apparent to all in the group.

"Here," Beth said as she raised the infant to his arms. "Hold him a moment. I need to get my other boots on."

Little Isaac was pressed forward into him. Daryl didn't even have a chance to object before Beth was depositing the little guy into his cradling hold, his arms automatically going to receive the child. He had no reason to object, no good one anyway.

There Daryl stood awkwardly holding the small child while Beth turned her attention to her fastening her heavy-duty footwear. Little Isaac blinked back up at the large man holding him. His dark brown eyes were wide and curious against his olive tinted skin. A large expanse of thick black hair was piled on his head, a sight rarely seen since the baby often had a cap on his head against the chilled air. The kid continued to look up at Daryl as if expecting him to say something or do something. Daryl sure as hell wasn't Beth; he wasn't going to sing to the kid. Nor was he about to babble in some silly cooing voice. The best this kid could ever hope from Daryl was a full belly and safe place to sleep at least until Isaac was older and actually useful. Oscar was almost there.

His scowl became apparent to Beth. "What's wrong?" she asked as she laced up her boots.

Daryl jerked his head up, looking over at her, and for a fraction of a second, he almost found himself telling her the truth. Everything was wrong. The whole damn world, the perfect future she deserved, everything he couldn't give her, that's what was wrong. But he couldn't tell her that. Beth deserved to be happy just a little bit longer. He could give her that.

"Nothin'," Daryl muttered in response, his eyes dropping low and away from hers. "Just… just thinkin' that I love you." He did so it wasn't so much a lie. He loved her, and she deserved so much more.

His answer caused a smile to jump to her face. "That shouldn't cause you to frown," Beth admonished, finishing her boots and rising to stand straight.

"You're leavin' me behind here all cold and alone. Woman, that's enough to frown about."

Beth laughed at that, making Daryl feel warm inside. Her smile, her laughter, that playful glint in her eyes always did.

"Oh, it's just for a day. I think you'll survive," she teased with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Daryl growled low and rumbling in his chest.

"It'll be fine," Beth reassured with a quirk of her brow, a challenge to him to say otherwise, as she slid her bow and quiver onto her back.

Daryl was smart enough to not give a counter argument, but it didn't stop him from growling deeper.

"Here, let me take him back to Kayla," Beth said as she walked to them, taking Isaac back into her arms.

Daryl let the little guy go easily. Isaac was soft and warm and really not too bad, but Daryl didn't want to hold him for any extended period of time. He might actually start to like the baby… more than he already found himself doing, more than he should in the uncertain and deadly world they lived in.

Beth cradled Isaac effortlessly, showing her adeptness with the small child. "I'm going to get goin' and you should rest."

Daryl grunted indifferently. Yeah, like he was going to sleep a damn wink the whole time she was gone. Not in a million years. Not until she was back with him, next to him in bed.

As Beth went to leave to take the infant back to his mother, Daryl shot his hand out to her elbow to stay her. "Be safe," he told her.

Beth turned to look at him over her shoulder with brilliant blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. "Always."

Daryl snorted. "I say that same shit, doesn't _always_ happen."

Her smile grew. "Yeah, but I mean it."

Daryl didn't doubt her words as he watched her walk away. He never doubted Beth. He just didn't trust the rest of the fucked up world out there.

################################

 **A/N: I know, I know. It's been forever. For that, I am sorry. Let me know what you thought of this chapter. I've got a few more to put out there if anyone is still interested in these two.**


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